Wayside Encampment
by SierraKathleen
Summary: Whilst on a bizarre hunt in the backwoods of Pennsylvania, Castiel mysteriously disappears. Sam and Dean begin their search for the lost angel, only to stumble across an encampment of... hunters? Set Mid-Season 5
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing, Supernatural belongs to Eric Kripke and large television corporations such as the CW. Any and all of the following is completely fictional and fan-made.

**Summary: **Whilst on a bizarre hunt in the backwoods of Pennsylvania, Castiel mysteriously disappears. Sam and Dean begin their search for the lost angel when they happen to stumble across an encampment of... hunters? Set Mid-Season 5.

**Pairings: **Dean/Castiel

**Author's Note: **So I've had this idea rolling around in the back of my head for some time and so I decided to mess around with it. I was actually first inspired to create this storyline from Skillet's "Looking For Angels" but, as you'll be able to tell, I've strayed from that general idea quite a bit.

For the record though, I'd like to dedicate this fic to **Luciel89 –** her and I have been talking for a little while now and she voted on which idea she liked best out of those ones I had brewing about. Me deciding to write this one first was her doing so she deserves a majority of the credit ^_^

Alright, enough of my jabber, please enjoy!

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**Wayside Encampment**

At first, nothing seemed suspicious. At first, it just seemed like the typical shit-town hunt. At first – at first, well, there weren't so many freaking demons. But now, the bastards were creeping in through the woodwork, or so it would seem. Road after winding road, stop after weary stop, there seemed to be a never-ending abundance of demons throughout the Pennsylvania woodland. Sam and Dean simply couldn't figure it out – Bobby had heard from a reliable source that there were hunters nestled in the south-eastern area. So why then were there demons crawling around like Hell had just warmed over? This was completely beside the fact that Lucifer had risen and, in turn, Hell _had_ indeed warmed over.

But t he point was, everything was off here – even Castiel could feel it. And for an angel who was slowly but surely fading away from the Heavenly host, getting a gut feeling about a particular area was a good enough conclusion to run on as any. At least in Dean Winchester's opinion. Ever since Castiel's initial disobedience of Zachariah he'd become, well, more human – at least a little bit. And to Dean, he had to admit that it was all pretty humorous but saddening as well. He was gaining a pal, yes, someone he could sit and have a beer with or tease Sammy with. But, at the same time, Dean was also loosing yet another piece of his soul. _His angel_. The one angel who seemed to give even the slightest damn about humanity, or Dean for that matter. The one angel who'd lifted Dean up from the flames of damnation and was now crashing down to Earth because of him. Each day Dean watched as a bit more of the sparkle dimmed in Castiel's ocean deep eyes and it was all the hunter could do to keep from wrapping an arm around the angel's shoulder in which to comfort him.

Of course it would be a whole Hell of a lot easier to be Castiel's shoulder to cry on if not for the fact that all three of them seemed to be in constant combat in these past few days. At last though, the trio found themselves stumbling upon a local hotel which was a most massive relief if ever there was one. Dean let out a long drawn sigh as he twisted the keys before pulling them out of the ignition. Turning just over his shoulder, he fetched his duffle bag from the backseat, opened the car door, and just happened to exit the vehicle in unison with his brother. Looking about the light beige and brick walls, Dean eyed the red shutters doubtfully. This was a bit more high-end than their typical hotel choice, but then again they really didn't have any other options. In this speck on the map know as Myerstown, the next place for accommodations was another five miles west. They were further from the job than they would've liked to begin with so Dean really hadn't bothered to argue when Sam suggested they just settle in here. Looking around now though, he sort of wished that he had.

"The Lantern Lodge? Really Sam?" the elder brother threw a glance over the roof of the Impala.

"I dunno, sounds kinda cozy don't you think?" Sam shrugged, completely ignoring Dean's obvious distaste for their lodgings.

Dean's frown deepened as he spoke, "Yeah I guess. If you like staying somewhere that looks about as old as the hills. I wonder if the roof'll cave in on us while we're sleeping."

"Come on Dean, we've seen worse," Sam retorted with a slight eye roll.

Dean looked as though he were about to argue his brother's point when suddenly Castiel but in, "Sam's right Dean. Besides, you're going to need replenishment if we encounter another group of demons."

"Yeah, I'll get replenishment alright," Dean scoffed, pulling his bag further over his shoulder, "Just tell me which way's the bar."

Sam and Castiel exchanged a weary glance before following Dean inside the main entrance. After being greeted by the clerk, who Dean had attempted to hit on and failed miserably, the group found their room on the second floor rather easily. There were two double beds situated against the wall, both decorated with what appeared to be a thick a cushy blue bedspread as well as two lighter (almost baby blue) blue chairs nestled in the corner. It appeared almost homelike, as the bed frames were made out of a rich cherry wood with an end table to match. Lastly, there was a bouquet of brightly colored flowers nestled in a vase between the two beds atop the end table. Overall, Sam was rather pleased with his choice. It had been a long time since they had stayed somewhere which appeared the least bit comfortable. He had a nice feeling that he would sleep well tonight. Dean and Castiel, on the other hand, seemed to be as indifferent as anything. Castiel of course wouldn't really sleep and Dean would probably stagger in half-trashed anyhow. Sam let out a lighthearted sigh as he set his bag on the bed closest to the side window.

Castiel walked past him, lifting a hand to pull the drapes aside. His crystal eyes scanned over the nearby scenery as if looking for something specific. "Cas, what's wrong?" Dean called from across the room.

"Hunter's have been here before," the angel replied simply, " Recently."

Sam threw Dean a strange glance over his shoulder before inquiring, "What? How do you know?"

Castiel sighed, turning away from the window. "I can just feel it. That sort of persisting energy – it doesn't feel right though," he frowned.

"Like how not right?" Sam continued.

"It feels, I don't know, _negative_," Castiel tried to clarify.

"Negative?" Dean echoed, folding his arms over his chest.

For a moment Castiel said nothing, he and Dean's eyes locking in some bizarre entwinement. Sam glanced between the two, waiting for the silence to be broken – only it wasn't. Were they using telepathy? The younger hunter opened his mouth as though about to speak when Castiel cut him off sharply, "I shall return." On that note, the angel whooshed off before a word of protest could be spoken.

"That was weird," Sam shrugged, flopping down on the corner of his bed.

Dean chuckled somewhat as he unzipped his bag to begin unpacking what little he had, "Guess we should be used to him popping in and out by now."

"No, I meant you two," Sam cleared his throat.

Dean paused from what he was doing, raising an eyebrow quizzically at Sam. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice coming out a bit more hushed that he would've perhaps liked.

"That whole staring thing. It's kinda freaky," Sam said almost nonchalantly as he arose from his position in which to walk towards the bathroom.

"Whatever," Dean muttered, shaking his head as he continued back to work.

Sam ignored his brother's apparent edginess as he closed the bathroom door lightly behind him. Dean, meanwhile, waited until he was sure Sam was going about his _business_ before letting out a deep sigh. He wasn't sure what it was lately – he couldn't help but keep his eyes off Castiel! Honestly, he couldn't tell whether it was just the yearning desire to bring peace to his fellow colleague or if this, well, _urge _ran deeper. Dean shook his head, of course it didn't run deeper. That was absurd. Glancing back at the spot where Cas had stood but moments ago though, Dean couldn't help but shift uncomfortably as a dull ache began to almost thump somewhere inside his chest. Lifting a hand, the hunter rubbed over his sternum as though that would help. Even though he knew Castiel wouldn't be gone long it was like he couldn't wait. Like he never wanted Castiel to leave for that matter.

But of course it wasn't long before Sam re-emerged from the bathroom and disrupted Dean's thoughts, in which he too began to settle his belongings. The two worked in silence as they organized their clothes and such, Sam continuing to throw Dean odd glances whenever he thought his brother wasn't looking. At last though, dusk was falling and Dean sighed wearily as he collapsed back onto the mattress. He had to admit, this place wasn't half bad. At least they hadn't seen any roaches yet which, of course, was definitely a good sign. Situating his arms behind his head, the hunter frowned somewhat as he felt a strange lump pressing against the back of his scalp. He reached behind the spikes of his hair, only to pull out a small square of chocolate wrapped in tinfoil. Sam arched an eyebrow quizzically at his brother as Dean flashed him a dopey smile in return.

"Mmm, chocolates," Dean muttered, stuffing the tiny candy into his mouth once he'd gotten it unwrapped.

"Here, have mine," Sam chuckled somewhat, tossing Dean the one from his pillow.

Dean stuffed the second one in his mouth shortly thereafter, smiling in contentment. They were pretty good chocolates, possessing a minty undertone. They did kind of leave a stale taste in his mouth though. The hunter shifted somewhat atop the bed sheets, settling into an at least semi-comfortable position before allowing his eyelids to dip shut. He'd only intended for this be momentary, of course, but within moments Dean had fallen asleep.

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The sound of swirling air alerted Dean's senses, zapping him back to reality. He instantly could feel Castiel's presence within the room, filling that empty void of his soul which had grown exhausted and lonely in the angel's absence. Jolting awake, Dean arose from his position on the bed propping himself up on his elbows. Like a wave breaking upon the beach, Dean felt relief flood over him as he caught a glimpse of Castiel's face at last.

"Hello Dean," Castiel said in his usual manner.

Dean could feel a dopey smile spreading over his lips as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "I was dreaming about dogs," he muttered randomly.

Castiel frowned somewhat, tilting his head to the side. He looked as though he were about to speak when Sam entered between the two. "Rise and shine, sleeping beauty," he teased, glancing down at Dean.

"Shut up," Dean retorted, tossing Sam a playful scowl as he stood from the bed and took a few steps around the room in which to wake himself up. "So what'ya find?" he asked, nodding in Castiel's general direction.

"I did some questioning around the town," Castiel replied simply.

"And?" Sam urged, taking a seat on the corner of his own bed.

"My suspicions were confirmed, hunter's were in the area just earlier this week," Cas continued, "One man described them as appearing _shady_."

Dean and Sam exchanged an odd glance before Dean echoed the angel's statement, "Shady?"

Castiel nodded, "Yes, he thought them to be dishonest or—,"

"No, I get what it means, just why would they think hunters are shady?" Dean cut him off abruptly, rubbing his chin in thought.

"There was a girl with them," Castiel decided to mention.

"A girl?" Sam frowned.

"They said she didn't seem to be entirely willing to be with them. And she wore a strange bracelet," Castiel joined Sam on the mattress, crossing his arms tightly over his chest.

"Did they describe anything about it?" Sam asked.

"One man said it was a pale blue color while a woman told me it was green. Both said it did have a glowing aura to it though," Cas responded.

"So a pair of hunters, apparently kidnappers, stroll into town with some chick whose wearing a glow stick and they're shady all of a sudden? Sorry, but I'm not buying it," Dean declared doubtfully, sitting across from the two.

"That's the only lead we've got, Dean," Sam protested.

Dean ran a hand through his hair in exasperation, "Oh c'mon Sam. Doesn't this sound the least bit off to you?"

"We're out of options," Sam retorted firmly, "Now I'm gonna call Bobby, see what he can dig up on this bracelet. Maybe he can find some lore that can help us out."

"Okay, okay," Dean huffed, watching as his brother quickly made his way across the room in which to step out into the hallway.

For a moment after he'd left neither Dean nor Castiel said a word. They didn't look at each other either, just sitting contently in the ever weighing silence which filled the room – but Dean really didn't seem to mind it, strangely enough. Just having Cas there was enough to satisfy him for the moment, though he didn't feel entirely comfortable admitting that. Even to himself. And so, hunter and angel sat across from each other, entwined in the fascination of absolutely nothing at all.

"You don't believe me," Castiel spoke at last. His voice bellowed against the stillness like he'd been speaking through a megaphone, nearly making Dean jump.

"No, I just," Dean spoke hesitantly, letting out a deep sigh, "I dunno. It just doesn't seem right, you know? Hunters usually seem to get along with people."

"Hunters are typically only in town for one purpose. Getting along with people isn't their highest concern," Castiel pointed out, his tone not arrogant but just factly.

"But I never heard of one kidnapping somebody," Dean retorted, feeling slight frustration begin to well up inside of him.

Now it was Castiel's turn to sigh, "I suppose there would be a first time for everything."

"Yeah," Dean reluctantly agreed, casting his focus upwards in which to gaze upon Castiel's face. He looked worn, as though life was actually beginning to take a toll on his appearance – his hair was a bit more ruffled than usual, the dark circles under his eyes especially accentuated. Dean pitied him almost. Jimmy by himself was a fairly attractive man, by most standards, but Castiel made him even more radiant. In a way, the hunter wanted to wrap his angel up in a blanket and force him to rest and just shove the world aside, but Dean knew that he simply couldn't do that. That just wasn't the way things worked, at least not in their lives. Although, he suddenly found himself leaning forward from his position on his bed not entirely certain of what his actions would be next. "Cas—,"

"Talked to Bobby," Sam suddenly announced, bursting back into the room. At his brother's unexpected appearance, Dean quickly straightened up feeling the slightest hint of embarrassment beginning to glow pink upon his cheeks. Sam frowned slightly, his eyes darting between Castiel and Dean for what seemed like an eternity. "Uh, am I interrupting something?"

"No, let's get on with it," Dean urged, just desperate not to let any kind of awkward silence beginning to creep in.

Sam shook his head vigorously for a moment, as if trying to wipe a most horrific image from his head. Clearing his throat, he continued, "Well, he didn't know anything about a bracelet specifically so much as he did a spell."

"A spell?" Castiel inquired.

"Yeah, apparently there's this vis redimio spell, which basically has the power to force a binding over different supernatural creatures or entities," Sam clarified.

Dean rubbed a hand over his forehead in deep thought, "But I thought we were dealing with a girl here."

"I don't know," Sam sighed, "I'm gonna dive a bit further into this whole spell thing. If you want to check out the missing persons reports for anyone who matches our girl's description that'd probably help."

Dean nodded, "Tomorrow. For right now though, think I'm gonna settle in with my old pal Jack Daniels." Sam just chuckled to himself as he walked away to fetch his laptop. Whipping it open, the young hunter's fingers flew over the keyboard as he searched up lore and other odds and ends. Seeing Castiel just sitting there like a mindless idiot, Dean called over to him, "Hey Cas, care to join?" He nodded towards the door.

Castiel glanced over his shoulder, watching as Sam was fairly engrossed in his work for the now. "Sure," he replied simply, arising from his position on the bed in which to follow Dean out the door and down the corridor. The two slipped down the back stairwell, continuing onto the exit until at last reaching what was now an empty parking lot.

Dean took a seat on one of the parking curbs in which Castiel joined him before accepting a small plastic cup from his colleague. He nodded his thanks, watching as Dean sipped from the alcoholic beverage without any trouble. Hesitantly, Castiel did so himself coughing and sputtering as the whiskey burned in the back of his throat. Dean chuckled somewhat at the angel's obvious lack of experience, slapping him firmly on the back. "Easy there tiger," he teased.

"I do not find this enjoyable," Castiel admitting, shaking his head as he set the cup aside.

"Ah well, guess it's an acquired taste," Dean scoffed, taking yet another sip, "So this whole bracelet thing, it's got you on edge?"

"Is it so apparent?" Castiel questioned, sounding almost slightly embarrassed as he did so.

"Well, not really, but I know you enough to know when something's eating you," Dean shrugged. It was at this moment that Castiel just happened to notice the hunter's foot twitching most ever slightly – a noticeable sign that Dean too was on edge.

"And I you," the angel challenged, meeting Dean's eyes for the briefest of seconds.

Dean broke the stare nearly instantly, finishing off his cup as though he were drinking water. "Well, I'm always livin' on the edge," he chuckled somewhat, clearing his throat awkwardly.

"What's troubling you?" Castiel insisted, feeling a peculiar desire to understand just what was making Dean so terribly uncomfortable or nervous for that matter.

"Nothing," Dean insisted, his voice cracking as the pitch raised. The hunter knew in this moment that he was dead – lying certainly wasn't his specialty this evening.

"I sense that it's me," Castiel said, his voice hushed as though to keep quiet some well hidden secret, "Perhaps I should go."

The angel was about to rise from his seat when Dean found himself abruptly grabbing hold of Castiel's wrist. "No," he commanded, "Please Cas, don't go." Castiel stared blankly at him for a moment, but did not deny Dean's request and regained his seat. "Can I uh, be honest with you 'bout something?" Dean cleared his throat.

"Of course," Castiel replied sincerely.

"In these past couple days I've wanted to, really badly wanted to, you know, uh, comfort you," the hunted muttered, fidgeting with his fingernails all the while.

Castiel frowned somewhat, "Comfort me? I don't understand."

"You're hurting Cas," Dean said simply, locking eyes with the angel once more, "I mean, Hell, I can see it in your eyes. And, I dunno, I just wanna be there for you I guess. Cause, it just seems like you're always there for me."

Castiel said nothing, but Dean swore he could see the faintest of grins spreading over his lips despite the heavy darkness of the night. Unexpectedly, Dean felt Castiel's slender fingers grasping his forearm, clothes and all, just over the spot where his handprint lay. "I will always be there for you, Dean Winchester," Castiel assured him, his voice so gruff and firm it was simply chilling.

Dean found himself melting into Castiel's words, allowing their meaning to be seeped in and feed his soul if you will. It was as if that smallest piece of his heart which had always left him malcontent and broken was warming over now, just bubbling with glee. Lifting one of his own hands, Dean cupped his palm over Castiel's simply loving the way his flesh tingled at the contact. Secretly he wished that Castiel could feel what he was feeling in this moment – in fact, he was nearly sure of it. And even in the twilight, Dean could see Castiel's radiating with some long forgotten exhilaration which was just enough to take the hunter's breath away.

Dropping their arms to their sides, hands still entwined, neither one dared to speak – dared to ruin the moment. This perfect and spectacular moment. The alcohol was beyond them now. As was Sam, or hunting, or even the apocalypse for that matter. All either one of them could sense was the overwhelming joy and contentment that came with having their palms woven together as one.

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**Author's Note: **So I really hope that you're enjoying this story so far. I didn't want to come on too strongly with this first chapter but at the same time I still wanted there to be something sweet going on between my favorite boys. Gotta give you all something to "_awww_" over haha.

Anyhow, I shall be sure to try and update very soon as I have the most lovely intentions for this story ^_^ Thanks for reading, reviews are much appreciated!


	2. Promise Me Nothing

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, Supernatural belongs to Eric Kripke and large television corporations such as the CW. Any and all of the following is completely fictional and fan-made.

**Author's Note: **Hello again (I always nearly type _Hell_ by accident haha)! I've returned with another chapter for you all which I hope will feed your curiosity. Just as a forewarning, there is a bit of, how might I say, ruthless violence ahead so be aware.

I'm really happy that you all have taken a liking to it so far though, so please enjoy!

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**Promise Me Nothing**

Dean and Castiel emerged from the outdoors once Dean had consumed nearly a quarter of the Jack and both had enjoyed their fill of hand-holding. The funny thing to Dean was though, that he really didn't mind holding Castiel's hand – somehow it just felt _natural_. It wasn't the least bit creepy as a matter of fact, not like Dean had expected it to be. And another ting that caught the hunter off guard was how incredibly soft Castiel's hands were too. Jimmy had appeared to be a hard working man, which was why it didn't quite add up in Dean's opinion. But none of that really mattered. Dean just truly loved the way their hands felt being enveloped by one another. Hiss ruggedness against Castiel's serenity.

Closing the door quietly behind them, Dean glanced over at Sam's bed only to find that the younger hunter had fallen asleep. His laptop and notebook were still sprawled out over his chest, but that didn't seem to make much of a difference – Sam was out like a light. Sighing wistfully, Dean approached the bedside and began to straighten things up like the good big brother that he was. He tucked Sam's belongings inside his messenger bag and then carefully lifted the crumpled bed sheets from the edge of the mattress over his brother's shoulders. Standing back, Dean grinned lightly as though admiring his handy work.

"You treat your brother well," Castiel observed pleasingly.

Dean glanced towards the angel, arching his brow in suspicion, "What? You don't expect me to kiss him on the head or whatever?"

A flicker of a smile pulled at the edge of Castiel's lips. "Of course not. I merely meant that you will always be Sam's guardian, whether he'd like to admit it or not," the angel retorted.

"Guess you're right," Dean yawned, outstretching his arms in which there came a rather loud crack.

"You should rest, I've no doubt the day will begin early for you tomorrow," Castiel urged, resting a hand atop the bottom of the bed frame.

"Oh yeah? And just what are you gonna do?" Dean muttered, nodding his eyebrows up and down rather suggestively. And this is where the liquor kicked in…

Castiel blushed just slightly, clearing his throat semi-awkwardly as he stepped out of Dean's way, "I should probably continue to investigate the matter at hand."

"It's one in the morning, dude," Dean frowned.

"I realize," Castiel replied blankly.

"Not-uh," Dean insisted, wrapping his arms around the angel's waist in which to pull him down onto his lap, "You're not going nowhere." At this, the hunter leaned his head against Castiel's back rather childishly.

Castiel could feel laughter swelling up inside him, but suppressed it. "Dean, this is unnecessary. What if I were to just teleport away?" he challenged.

"Oh, oh we can't let that happen!" Dean retorted with false anger, shoving Castiel down onto the bed. He wrapped his hands over the angel's shoulders, which were pinned tightly to his sides, and drew him so close that Dean could smell the wonderful essence of Castiel's hair.

Castiel couldn't help but chuckle now – Dean was typically not this friendly of a person, especially when intoxicated. Letting out a deep sigh, the sound of air fluttered around them and Castiel easily escaped Dean's grasp. He stood triumphantly beside Dean's bed, towering over the hunter. "Now rest," Castiel commanded, a smug grin still plastered to his face.

"Cheater," Dean grumbled.

"You never stated the rules of this… _game_," Castiel pointed out.

"Well, you're still a cheater," Dean insisted, latching hold of one of Castiel's hands, "Just, please, don't go out Cas. I got a bad feeling about this one."

Castiel frowned, now feeling a bit more concerned as to why Dean wished for him to stay so badly. "Why are you feeling this way?" he asked.

"Cause I just am," Dean yawned, sleep now overtaking his ability to speak sensibly – what little of that he had left after the amount of alcohol he'd consumed.

Castiel let out another lighthearted sigh before tightening his grip on Dean's hand. "I assure you, I will be by your side at dawn," the angel vowed.

At that, even though Dean's eyes were closed by now, the brightest beam spread over the hunter's lips. In moments though, he passed away into slumber. Castiel caught Dean's hand as his muscles went limp, placing it atop the hunter's stomach. He then placed two fingers delicately to his forehead in which to assure that he would stay asleep until morning arrived. All of the muscles in Dean's face relaxed instantly and Castiel turned away in which to double check that the door was secure. With a mere twist of his hand, the locks on the door all slid into place. Castiel threw one last glance behind him at his sleeping hunter, before vanishing into thin air.

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Castiel didn't like lying to Dean, or Sam for that matter. And it's not like he was, _really_ – the locals did indeed tell him about the hunters and their _captive, _but what Cas had failed to mention was the fact that there was more to that girl than met the eye. She was an angel. Castiel knew it and, he had a feeling, whoever her supposed abductors were they knew it too. Of course he hadn't actually _seen_ said angel, but that was indeed the presence he'd felt earlier – the hunters' pessimism and the angel's pure and holy optimism.

It had been such a long time since Castiel had felt such a strong presence form the Heavenly host, too long in fact. Which was all the more reason to check into all this alone and without the help of Sam or Dean. Things had just become personal – what right did humans, God's most beloved creatures, have to take hold of the Divine Messengers of Him? Quite frankly, the thought just seemed to flat-out appall Castiel. And, even though Castiel wasn't _technically _a member of the host any longer, he still loved each and every one of his brothers and sisters (with the exceptions of Zachariah or Raphael, of course). After all, maybe not everyone agreed with this master plan the angels had in store. Perhaps the lot of them were just too afraid to speak up and state their opinion – at least Castiel certainly hoped so.

He couldn't be sure how long he'd tracked the angelic presence for, but it must've been a fairly lengthy distance from where the Winchesters were lodged. At last though, Castiel settled deep into the middle of a woodland in which he had felt the essence most strong. Looking above, all the angel could see were the top points of evergreens which casted ever glooming shadows over the forest floor. The night seemed to have a hazy mist hanging about in the air also, which of course didn't help to make Castiel's sense of vision any sharper.

The hair on the back of Castiel's neck stood nearly straight up as he heard the agonizing cry of one of his brethren echo out into the twilight. Though their screams tore through the night with a borrowed voice, Castiel could still hear the faint remnants of his native language pierce his ears as well. Quite honestly, it made his stomach double over in knots simply to imagine the pain they must be undergoing in which to make such noises.

Almost frantically, Castiel tore through the gaps amidst the trees approaching ever closer to where he could hear, as well as feel, his distressed sibling's cries emulating from. And then, almost as though someone had flipped a switch, it all ended. Castiel stopped dead in his tracks, his heart thudding loudly the only sound audible to his ears. From afar in a bush, unknown to Castiel, a young man awaited crouching and anticipating. "Pretty angel," he muttered to his colleague beside him. They both shared a hushed chuckle, keeping their eyes glued on Castiel as he stepped onward. He was so close now, their blood was nearly boiling as they perched with bated breath.

Suddenly, Castiel caught sight of his fellow angel, darting quickly to their location. Their vessel was the same girl that the locals had described earlier – a young redhead, with short hair, and a freckled face. As Castiel overlooked her he noted that her hands and feet were bound with the same glowing braces, as well as she had numerous burns to decorate her forearm. The cause of her muffled screams, no doubt. As she caught sight of him, she made something close to a whimpering sound through her gag, her eyes glassy with fresh tears. "Sister," he murmured in a soothing tone.

At first she appeared to calm down as he rested a hand upon her shoulder, but much too soon her eyes were alight with fear once again. She let out a small cry of terror, one of which Castiel could not quite comprehend. Just as he were about to speak once again, Castiel could hear the crunching of a twig behind him. In nearly the blink of an eye, he had turned swiftly with his blade ready for the kill. Castiel may be falling, but he was still as fast as ever. That much went without saying. He turned to see two humans, one male one female, approaching him with weapons clutched tightly in their hands.

"Who are you?" Castiel demanded, edging away from the pair slowly.

"I swear, it never fails," the man snickered sadistically, "They never stop coming, one after the other. Like an assembly line, poof! One's in trouble and the next one's right there to catch his ass!"

"Careful, Nathan," the woman advised, a sick pleasure heavy in her tone, "I kinda like this one, he's cute."

Castiel's eyes darted between the two as he continued to step back, unsure of what their next move might be. "Don't come any closer," he urged, his adrenaline swiftly rising.

Suddenly, without warning, Castiel couldn't move back any further. It was like an invisible wall was blocking him from proceeding. Glancing downward, Castiel now noticed a large sigil etched carefully into the long blades of grass – like a devil's trap for angels, apparently.

"Sorry honey, that's as far as you go," the woman muttered in false sympathy.

The man chimed in, "Nighty, night."

Pain surged through Castiel's body as a sudden blow was struck to the back of his head – the iron rod used to brand his fellow comrade most likely. There was a blue spark in the center of his eyesight before darkness crept along the edges. Castiel stumbled forward about a foot or so before collapsing down onto the ground. All was completely enveloped by black.

"Get his blade," the man ordered to the girl who'd just smashed the iron against Castiel's head.

Grabbing Castiel's weapon from his very fingers, the girl overlooked the angel's now unconscious body. "He'll make a nice addition," she mused.

The man nodded in agreement, his attention quickly drawn away to the other angel who still sat bound amidst the dirt of the forest floor. "And as for you," he sighed, spinning the cylinder of his revolver, "I think your purpose here is done, wouldn't you agree?"

The angel's eyes widened as the man took aim directly at her forehead. She let out a tiny squeak of protest which was quickly silenced by the clap of a bullet. The angel's eyes echoed with a rich light as her now lifeless body fell backwards onto the ground below. The man merely snickered as he towered over her triumphantly, feeling not even the slightest hint of remorse in his heart.

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"Dean," the elder Winchester could hear a soft echoing in his ears as he was pulled from his deep slumber, "Dean." Flickering his eyelids slowly, the hunter smiled expecting to see the face of his beloved angel before him.

"Hey you," Dean sighed wistfully, waiting for his vision to clear. As the slight blur subsided, Dean saw none other than the face of his dopey brother staring back at him with those bulging puppy-dog eyes. "Gahh!" he exclaimed, jolting backwards ever slightly in surprise.

"Well jeeze," Sam chuckled, leaning back in which to place his hands on his hips, "Who were you dreaming about?"

"What'ya mean?" Dean frowned, running a hand over his scalp.

"I must've woken up 'bout 4:30 or so," Sam informed him as he made his way to the other side of the room, "Gotta say, there were some very pleasing moans coming from your direction."

"Shut up," Dean retorted, taking a hot cup of coffee from Sam's outstretched hand.

Sam's smile only continued to grow wider, which Dean honestly didn't think was possible at this point. "No man, I'm being serious – it was a little freaky actually. So who was it?"

Dean took a moment to consider Sam's inquiry. Honestly, he couldn't quite recollect said _happy _dreams, but he could only guess that they were likely centered around Castiel. Probably best not to mention that… "Brad Pitt," he retorted sarcastically.

"Fine, you know what, don't tell me then," Sam shrugged, taking a bite out of his everything bagel.

"Okay, you really wanna know?" Dean taunted, lingering in the doorway of the bathroom, "The check-in clerk. From yesterday, you know, the brunette?"

Sam frowned in semi-disgust, "Dude seriously?"

"What can I say? She's got the goods," Dean smiled a cheesy grin, knitting his eyebrows up and down as he signaled the size of her breasts in front of his own chest.

"Whatever," Sam shook his head as Dean closed the bathroom door behind him.

Once inside the privacy of white tile, Dean slid down towards the floor simply collapsing there. Where was Cas? He said he'd be there when Dean woke up. _He freaking promised_, Dean thought to himself, his mouth feeling slightly dry as the pit of his stomach rumbled – and it wasn't the result of a hangover either. Something deep inside his gut told him that Castiel was in trouble. Every fiber of his being sensed it, and the emotion was almost more than the hunter could bear. He definitely hadn't anticipated his feelings strengthening so quickly, or to this extent for that matter. Slowly, Dean crept towards the toilet in which he flopped himself over the bowl as the world around him spun into a blurry nothingness.

His head felt like it weighed a ton, his eyes drooping shut as he attempted to see straight. And then, as Dean had expected, it happened – at first it was just empty threats, dry heaves, but inevitably the hunter began to puke his guts up. Sam, meanwhile, overheard from the next room and quickly made his way towards the door.

Bending his knuckles he lightly tapped them against the whitewashed wood, leaning an ear close in which to listen. "Dean?" he called, "Dean, you okay?" Dean was about to answer when a mouthful of stomach vile disrupted his planned speech. The hunter coughed once more as the disgusting substance drained into the toilet below. Promptly, Sam opened the door and frowned heavily at the sight before. "God man, what'd you do last night?"

Dean reached for a square of toilet paper in which to wipe his mouth with before moving onto a question of his own. "What'd you find out about this bracelet thing?" he cleared his throat.

"Wait, what?" Sam asked, a little bewildered that something like that would be troubling his brother at a time like this.

"The bracelet," Dean clarified, arising to stand on a trembling foundation, "You know, the glowy binding thingy."

Sam hesitated, "Yeah, what about it?"

"What lore did you find on it?" Dean huffed in impatience as he flushed the remnants of his stomach contents away.

"Not much really," Sam confessed, "But a did a little more research on the spell Bobby told me about and apparently it can be cast on select items through a ritual."

Dean's eyes darted all about the room as the gears in his head turned in deep thought. He continued, "So it makes like a lock?"

"Basically," Sam nodded, "Dean, what's going on? You okay?"

"Something's not right," Dean muttered, rubbing a hand across his chin as he lowered himself onto the now closed toilet lid.

"Yeah, you just threw up at random," Sam scoffed, folding his arms tightly over his chest, "Dean, c'mon tell me, what's going on?"

Dean let out a deep sigh, cradling his hands in his head, "Cas is missing."

Sam's facial expression softened almost instantly. "What? But how do you kn—"

"I just know, okay?" Dean interrupted him swiftly, "We got to talking last night, and he told me he was gonna be here in the morning."

"You mean he went somewhere?" Sam questioned.

Dean nodded, "But I dunno where. I told him not to, I freaking told him. I just, I had a bad feeling about it. Ever since you'd mentioned that spell thing or whatever he just seemed really off. I didn't want him going out all weird, you know?"

"Dean, I'm sure he's fine," Sam insisted, "I mean, maybe he found a lead that's just holding him up."

"Sam, I'm telling you, something's wrong. He _said_ he was gonna be here this morning. He promised, even," Dean retorted, shaking his head.

Now it was Sam's turn to sigh. "I'll try calling him," he announced, making for the doorway of the bathroom.

Dean just sat quietly to himself, going over the scenario in his head. He wasn't quite sure what gave him this instinct, it just didn't seem right for Cas not to stand on his promises. And plus, there was that secret part of his soul that was continuing to ache once again. Dean hadn't really noticed it before, he'd always been able to content it with pool hustling, booze, women – but now, now he could hardly ignore it. When he was with Castiel last night, even though nothing really came about between them, Dean had never felt more content in his lifetime. Of course, he couldn't let Sam know any of this because then Sam would just continually want to _be there_ for his brother. He'd want to try and _comfort _Dean, and get him to _confess his feelings_. What a load of crap. There was no way Dean was going to break down that nice, secure barrier he'd spent so much time constructing. Although, Dean did fear that when push came to shove, something definitely had to give…

Just then, Sam came jogging back into the bathroom. "He answered, but it wasn't him," he exclaimed.

"What?" Dean asked, jumping up from his place to stride to Sam's location. Both looked at the younger hunter's phone screen.

"Hear, listen," Sam replied, dialing the number again and quickly placing it on speaker.

It rang only twice before someone, not Castiel though, picked up. Sam and Dean said nothing, and in return the receiver said nothing also. But Dean could tell someone was there, for even though there wasn't any initial sound just the faint echo of breathing reached his ears.

This awkward silence continued only for a moment further before Dean found it nearly unbearable. He cleared his throat, leaning in just slightly closer to the speaker of the phone. "Where is Castiel?" he demanded, his voice firm and icy.

There was an intake of breath, similar to that of a gasp before Sam and Dean heard a tiny click and the line was dead. "See what I mean?" Sam muttered, exchanging a quick glance with his brother.

"Who was it?" Dean asked, rubbing a hand over his face in near exasperation. At this point in time, his heart was beating about sixty miles or so per hour thudding loudly in his chest.

"How should I know," Sam retorted, scrolling through some kind of menu on his phone.

"Can you track it?" Dean asked, his voice sounding just a bit needier than he had intended.

Sam sighed lightly, "That's what we're about to find out."

Opening the lid of his laptop, the younger hunter pulled out a thin USB cord from his back in which he connected to a jack on the phone and also a port on the computer itself. Next, with a few clicks and key strokes, Sam had opened up three or four windows and was rapidly entering codes and commands. Dean's eyes watched every minute detail, not really absorbing any of the information particularly, but just fascinated by the overall process.

"There," Sam announced suddenly, pointing a finger to a specific location on the map which he'd pulled up on the screen, "There's where Cas is."

"And where's that exactly," Dean squinted.

"Hold on a sec," Sam retorted, typing in a few more commands which linked Castiel's current location to theirs, "Somewhere in Elysburg, but I can't quite a grip on—shit!"

"What?" Dean gasped, nearly climbing over Sam's bulky shoulder to get a look at what was going on.

"I almost had it," Sam growled, working even more vigorous than before.

"What happened?" Dean repeated.

Sam's shoulders slumped ever slightly, sliding somewhat away from his position in front of the laptop. "They turned his phone off, I can't track it. I was close, but I didn't get it exact," Sam looked up at his brother, shame almost glistening in his eyes.

Dean patted him firmly on the shoulder, assuring him that he indeed did his best. "Where was it close to?" he asked, his voice faint.

"Like I said before, Elysburg. Somewhere away from congested areas, the country maybe?" Sam shrugged.

"And how long'll it take to get there?" Dean pondered.

Sam replied, "A little over an hour. Probably close to an hour and a half."

Dean walked silently towards the window, pulling the curtains aside to look out towards the world. The sky was a murky gray. Dull and drained, like he felt now. "Guess we should get moving then," he said simply.

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**Author's Note:** Wow! So I whipping these chapters out faster than you can say __! Not really haha.

But anyways, I really hoped that you enjoyed this chapter. Sorry I did indeed leave you on the edge of a cliffhanger, but you should know that's my specialty by now. Just to let you know quickly, I'm going to be leaving tomorrow evening for a weekend trip which means I won't be able to post anything further probably until early Monday or so. Not to worry though, I'll have my handy dandy notebook with me so I can still jot some things down ^_^

That's all I have for the now, but thank you all for reading and of course for the lovely reviews so far!


	3. Lost and Delirious

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, Supernatural belongs to Eric Kripke and large television corporations such as the CW. Any and all of the following is completely fictional and fan-made.

**Author's Note:** So I've really been having a fun time allowing my ideas brew around for this story, I hope that you'll enjoy the end result as I disclose another chapter for you all.

Just to let you know, this chapter is more or less going to be centered on Castiel's time waking up and coming to know his new prison rather than Sam and Dean's search for him. The dearest Winchester's will be mentioned somewhat, don't worry, but much more briefly than our beloved angel.

As a quick side note, there is quite a bit of Latin used here in the beginning but translation follows right after in parenthesis so be sure to read that carefully to understand the dialect.

Anyhow, happy reading!

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**Lost and Delirious**

_Haud, subsisto a mihi! _(no, stay away from me!)

Castiel could hear rapid shouting as his eyes flickered open slowly. "Dean?" he muttered, his voice scratchy from his extremely dry throat. He coughed, which made the ache that was dull in his temples arise and thump drastically. Laying his head back down again atop what was, apparently, a hardwood floor the world above swirled in and out of focus. Castiel blinked vigorously as he realized the pain he felt in his head was most likely from the egg shaped lump nestled on the back of his skull amidst his hair. He lifted a hand in which to rub over the swollen skin.

And there it was again, the loud cries of terror which had first awoken him. "Ulciscor! Ulciscor, ego ordo vos!" (get back! get back, I order you!) he heard a feminine voice call out.

"Look at her, trying to be all tough a shit," a familiar man's voice chuckled.

"Yeah, why don't you come a bit closer honey? We'll toughen you up real good," another man added suggestively.

Sitting up from his spot on the floor, Castiel recognized one of the men as _Nathan_ from the night before. He stood leaning over the edge of what appeared to be a stall door smiling sickly at an angel which was confined inside. His hair was a light auburn color, his eyes a rich brown. He bore a scare just above his top lip which curved almost all the way upward to his nose. The man beside him, though not familiar to Castiel, was equally rugged wearing a blue cap atop his head. He also had a stained vest on and a long metal pitch fork in his hand. Meanwhile, within the confinements of the stall, another angel stood in a defensive stance. She had silky black hair which was cut close to her head but fanned out toward the neck, her eyes almost a mahogany color. Her brow was creased in partial anger, partial concentration—she too bore the same wristband had seen the other woman wearing last evening.

"Here, let me see that," Nathan signaled the other man to hand him the pitchfork.

The angel's eyes widened in horror and she backed even further into her corner, her hands pressing against the wooden planks of the wall. "Commodo, operor non," (please, do not) she pleaded, her voice slightly lower but still as domineering as ever.

Nathan licked his lips as he twirled the handle of the pitchfork within his fingers almost tauntingly, his colleague sliding a key into the stall door before pulling it open. The other man pulled a thin dagger from the back of his jacket, keeping it concealed there unknown to the other angel. Castiel swallowed hard at the scene before him—he simply could stand it.

"No!" he screeched, his voice coming out hoarse and sharp. Ignoring any of the pain which racked through his body, the angel sprinted forward, jumping the short barrier of his own stall and easily slipping into the next one. All three, Nathan, the man, and the woman angel turned to face him in shock.

Castiel twisted the dagger out of the man's hands, shoving him backwards into a pile of hay behind him before he tried slicing at Nathan. Nathan lifted up the handle of the pitchfork in which to protect his face from the oncoming blade. Still, Castiel pressed forward with such brute strength that it amazed even his fellow angel. From the corner of his eye, Castiel could see the other man jumping up from his place on the ground in which the woman angel leapt towards him wrapping a firm hand around his neck. The man choked and sputtered as she slammed him against the nearby wall, slamming head forcibly into the wall. "N- Nathan!" he shouted through his gurgles.

Nathan glanced over his shoulder at his pal, which gave Castiel just the opportunity to steal a nick off his arm. The dagger easily sliced through the thin fabric of Nathan's long sleeved shirt cutting into the skin. Crimson flourished over the otherwise pale skin and Nathan stumbled backwards ever slightly from the sudden shock in his nerves. Castiel lifted the dagger as if to penetrate him in the shoulder when suddenly there came a nearly deafening crash from just feet away.

All eyes turned to see another human, a woman, standing in the corridor of the stalls bearing a shot gun in hand. Smoke was clearing above her head from the round she'd just fired, the only other sound being her cocking the gun. A small red bullet case fell to the ground, crashing amidst the dirt and hay. This was all the more distraction Nathan needed as he turned and plunged the pitchfork in Castiel's mid-thigh area. Castiel gasped out loudly in pain, clutching the area around where the blade of the pitchfork had entered. The angel looked up, panting vigorously through clenched teeth staring Nathan right in the eye.

"You're a fighter, I like that," he muttered, his voice barely grazing a whisper, "Careful though, might just be enough to meet your end." On that note, he twisted the pitchfork before pulling it out of Castiel's leg. The angel stumbled somewhat, before falling back onto the hardness of the floor. "I would recommend releasing him, unless you'd like this through your pretty little face," he then nodded towards the woman angel.

She glared daggers at him before releasing the man. He coughed and gasped for breath as he quickly darted away from her and towards the entrance of the stall. Both he and Nathan exited promptly, securing the lock. Nathan then turned to the woman still bearing the shotgun, throwing her an appreciative smile. "You're gonna leave'em alone like that?" she questioned, arching an eyebrow in suspicion at the two angels before her.

"What's the worst that could happen?" Nathan shrugged, "Somehow I doubt mating is the top priority on their list. Isn't that right?" Neither Castiel nor the woman angel spoke a word of replied, simply holding their silence and unnerving stares. "See what I mean?" he chuckled.

Turning away, Nathan followed the woman out of a large door, emitting bright light in the shadows of the barn for only the briefest of moments. It then slammed shut with the jingle of keys to be followed as it was locked. The woman angel let out a deep sigh before turning to face Castiel. She took a few steps toward him before crouching down in which to examine his wounds. "Carus frater," (dearest brother) she murmured in consolation, lifting a hand to press against Castiel's stubble decorated cheek. Castiel noted that her vessel appeared to have a slight French accent to her words.

"Sanctimonialis," (sister) he replied, with a slight grunt trying to reposition himself upward.

The woman angel placed a firm hand against his sternum, keeping him resting in place. "Haud, haud, vos must recubo etiam," (no, no, you must lie still) she urged soothingly.

Castiel said nothing for a moment, content to take a few deep breaths as he rested. Even if it was momentarily. "Quis erant they iens efficio?" (what were they going to do?) he asked curiously.

"Quis operor vos volo?" (what do you suppose?) she challenged. Taking a seat beside him on the floor, she stretched out her left leg, reaching down towards a fraying piece of her jeans in which she proceeded to tear off. She made almost a spiral motion until this portion of denim was fairly wide. She then, very careful, took Castiel's leg in her hands and wrapped the fabric tightly over it as a substitute for a bandage.

"Tamen nam illic had futurus nonnullus voluntas pro suum volens ut vulnero vos," (but surely there had to be some purpose for their wishing to harm you) Castiel frowned, wincing somewhat as she tied the fabric even tighter than before over the wound.

"Ego have adeo perceptum ex usus ut illic est haud voluntas pro ullus of suum factum," (I have come to learn from experience that there is no purpose for any of their actions) she sighed wearily, leaning back against the wall, her eyes deep with sadness.

"Operor vos narro English?" (do you speak English?) Castiel asked after a moment of thoughtful silence.

"Non pro _lemma_," (not for _them_) she spat harshly.

"Mihi?" (for me?) Castiel questioned, trying to ease her sudden burst of anger.

The woman angel let out another deep sigh, before the faintest of grins tugged at the corners of her mouth. "For you, yes," she said at last.

"My apologies, the language is fading from my memory," Castiel admitted almost shamefully, "Thank you for tending my wound though. The dressing feels strong."

"Your forgetfulness can only be expected," she said almost understandingly, "You're falling, Castiel."

"How is it you know me? I don't recall serving with you," Castiel said.

She replied, "Oh, we didn't. I've been stationed on Earth for most of your lifetime likely. But I've heard of you, we've all heard of you really. There's still quite the desire for your death in the higher ranks though." Castiel froze at her words, his jaw becoming rather stiff. "You needn't worry, I don't plan on harming you in any way," she assured him.

Castiel visibly relaxed at this, turning his eyes to look dazily at the wall just a few feet in front of him. "So if you know me, who might you be?" he asked.

"Cathetel," she replied simply.

"Angel of The Garden," Castiel nodded, feeling very honored to have this particular sister by his side. Sure, he had many other siblings in which appreciated just as equally, but not many angels could claim that they'd been within the boundaries of Eden. That is, other than the cherub guarding its east entry with the flaming sword.

Cathetel smiled, "_Now the LORD God had planted a garden in the east, in Eden; and there he put the man he had formed. And the LORD God made all kinds of trees grow out of the ground—trees that were pleasing to the eye and good for food. In the middle of the garden were the tree of life and the tree of the knowledge of good and evil._"

"Genesis, chapter two," Castiel declared, feeling contentment bubble up deep inside him at the hearing the words of scripture. It was a most pleasing sound to his ears of any.

"Glad to see _that_ knowledge has not surpassed your memory," she teased lightheartedly.

Castiel allowed his eyes to dip shut, "Like it could ever. No, I shall never allow it to."

"Good," she sighed wistfully, "The tree was truly beautiful, you know. The most gorgeous leaves, tarnished in a deep olive color. And the fruit—ripe golden orbs that sparkled in the sunlight. One might've thought they were precious jewels."

"Golden fruit?" Castiel questioned in surprise.

"Yes, most people believe that the forbidden fruit was the apple, tomato, or even the pomegranate. Red fruits like that. But no, it was in fact a golden pear. I believe the closest resemblance would be what the humans have labeled the Royal Riviera Pear. Very scrumptious looking if I do say so myself."

Castiel opened his mouth as though about to comment on Cathetel's words, when suddenly a fluorescent light above them burst and shattered. A few more bulbs repeated the process, Cathetel quickly arising from her seat as sparks slowly glistened to the floor around them. "What's happening?" Castiel called to her, raising his voice over the loud explosions.

"Isda!" she replied simply, running towards the front wall of the stall. Castiel grunted somewhat as he managed to pull himself up from the corner, leaning on the wall for support. Cathetel, meanwhile, was nearly hanging over the edge of the front wall as if trying to gain the attention of someone is a stall across the small corridor space. "Isda, Isda wake up!" Cathetel called, "You have to wake up!"

From across the room, Castiel could hear the loud thrashing and slamming of someone's body in one of the stalls. He saw a foot fly up in the air followed by a light grunt as whoever it was came crashing back down onto the hardwood floor. Cathetel took a few steps back before running forward again and clearing the wall without any trouble. She then darted towards the stall in which Castiel had heard, and partially seen, all the ruckus coming from easily slipping inside. From there, all Castiel could see was Cathetel crouching down beneath the wall. He heard her faint murmurs of comfort echoing into their distressed sibling's ears and all seemed to be settling gradually. And then, unexpectedly, a loud scream bellowed throughout the barn. It affected neither Castiel nor Cathetel, but it was obvious that the angel's true voice was would affect humans throughout the area.

"Isda!" Cathetel cried once more and the screaming abruptly stopped. Castiel could hear wild panting coming from the other angel and then all was completely silent.

With a slight grunt, Cathetel appeared rising from the wall bearing another female angel in her arms. This other angel, Isda apparently, looked thin and frail to Castiel's eyes—her flesh was pale, the bones evident pressing sharply against the skin. Though she was very beautiful, luscious strands of red hair flowing from her scalp and draping over her arms gracefully. "What's wrong with her?" Castiel frowned.

"Isda's vessel is mute, she was born without a voice," Cathetel explain as she carefully lowered her sister over the boundaries of the wall before climbing over herself, "If Isda tries to speak, her real voice leaks through. So essentially, she is voiceless also."

Castiel nodded silently, stroking his chin thoughtfully as her words. "And her bones?" he pointed towards her wrists, which were especially evident.

Cathetel sighed sorrowfully, "Isda is an angel of nourishment, she is of great use to the humans. If one of them is injured or falls ill, her powers can be used to replenish them. Though she did the same for our brethren, this on a much greater scale. It's taking quite the toll on her, I must say."

Castiel remained silent as he accepted Isda's limp body into his arms, lowering her onto the collection of hay which was piled in the corner. She made a light murmur as her head draped into the pile of dried grass. Though Cas was sure that she was in some kind of pain, her face couldn't look any more peaceful. Extending a hand, he also helped Cathetel to breach the wall in which she landed against him in a somewhat awkward gesture. Castiel looked down, realizing his hand happened to cup the side of his sister's breast and removed it promptly. Cathetel arched an eyebrow at him in confusion—obviously she hadn't been within her vessel long enough to realize what felt _uncomfortable_ to the touch.

Without any explanation, Cathetel turned away from him in which to kneel beside Isda. Placing a most gentle hand upon her shoulders, Cathetel raised her other in which to press her fingers against her sister's forehead. Isda was awoken instantly, her olive eyes alight with intensity. She took deep breaths as she regained sight of her surroundings, her lips moving ever slightly showing her obvious desire to speak. Though she refrained. Reaching out her hands, she grasped onto Cathetel's arms making motions from her lips as some kind of sign language. "Yes, yes, you cried out," Cathetel nodded, "We both heard you."

Isda frowned as though about to ask _Both?_ when Castiel shifted somewhat, making his presence known. His sister promptly arose to her feet, standing almost at height with Castiel smiling weakly. She nodded cordially, in which Castiel returned the gesture. "I'm Castiel," he informed her.

Isda nodded in understanding, making a gesture that started at her chest and expanded outward. She then tapped the side of her temple. "She could read your grace," Cathetel interrupted for her, "Just another one of her many gifts.

Shrugging modestly, Isda turned happening to catch sight of Castiel's wound in his thigh. Crouching down, she reached down to removed the half-assed bandage from his leg when Castiel prevented her. "It is unnecessary," he assured her.

Isda shook her head, clamping her hand in a fist in which she patted lightly against where her heart would be on her chest. "It's her duty," Cathetel again clarified.

This time Castiel made no objections as his fellow angel removed the dressing and placed her hands around the injury. He could feel a swift cooling sensation burning over his wound, the flesh stitching itself together beneath the power of Isda's fingertips. "Has it taken you long to understand her signals?" he asked at last.

"Much time and practice," Cathetel nodded.

Castiel glanced over his shoulder towards her, "How long is it you've been here?"

"It's been nearly two years," Cathetel replied, her eyes darting towards the ground almost shamefully, "Isda was already here when I arrived, though she refrains from telling me just how long."

Isda shot her a advising look as she arose from her position in front of Castiel, her jaw tightening uncomfortably. Castiel thought it best to move onto a better topic of interest at this point, "Is it the bracelets which leave you confined?"

Cathetel shook her head, "Not so much the bracelets as the spell used to enchant them. Vis redimio, I believe it's called. It's a binding spell—though it helps if there is something upon which the spell can actually be cast. I suppose bracelets are the simplest of things."

"But could you simply remove it?" Castiel pondered, scratching his head ever slightly.

"They are fitted precisely," Cathetel demonstrated, tugging at the metal which was secure around her wrist, "They must've done yours while you were unconscious."

Castiel looked down only to see that he indeed wore the same bracelet—no wonder he'd felt so drained. More than just binding, Castiel figured these bracelets were probably also used to keep the angels weak. But for what purpose? Glancing over towards Isda, Castiel noticed that she did not wear a bracelet but that the designed was actually marred on her skin. "What about yours?" he nodded in the direction of her wrist.

Isda seemed to shy away from him at this question, looking towards Cathetel for verbal support. "Angels who become of a permanent value to the humans have secured survival. They brand the design into their skin which basically works in the same way as the bracelet itself. Those who are, well, _slaughtered_ their bracelets are how you might say recycled," she explained, shifting slightly under the weight of her own words it would seem.

Castiel kept his focus mainly on the floor, his eyes seemingly dancing with an unspoken question. Licking his lips, he took a hesitant breath before daring to speak the words which lingered in his heads, "Last night, the angel—"

"Rhamiel," Cathetel interrupted him swiftly, "She was killed."

Castiel's eyes closed tightly, his fists clenched in the purest of rage—he tried to be appreciative of humans, God's most favored of creatures, but this just surpassed all of his patience. _Entirely_. And he couldn't help but feel that Rhamiel's blood was now on his hands. If it hadn't been for him, she most likely would've lived. At least he'd like to think so. From behind him he could feel Isda's soft touch land on his shoulder, squeezing it just slightly.

He turned just slightly to face her, her eyes seeming to glisten the words _You cannot blame yourself_. Though Castiel knew there was much sense behind what she wished to convey, it did little to raise his spirits or comfort him for that matter. Instead, he turned away from both of his sisters, muttering under his breath, "Damn them."

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Dean's foot was pressed solidly to the gas pedal, without any sign of relent. Sam swallowed hard as they flashed by a speed limit sign, which he was lucky enough just to read. _Speed Limit: 55_—they were going well above 70.

"Dean, uh, maybe you wanna slow down a bit," Sam coughed ever slightly, "You know, just a _little_."

Dean shot Sam a death glare, cranking the guitar solo of AC/DC which just happened to be playing at the time. "We're fine," Dean assured his brother, a sort of icy firmness to his tone as he spoke.

Sam rested a hand against Dean's shoulder in insistence, "Dean, we don't even know where we're going!"

Almost as if on cue, there came a loud pop sound which was followed by the scraping of metal against asphalt. Eureka! A tired had blown out. "For fuck's sake," Dean muttered angrily as he quickly slowed his pace, turning the Impala off onto the shoulder before coming to a complete stop.

Pulling the keys out of the ignition, both Dean and Sam made their way towards the trunk in which to get the repairs underway. "I'll get the jack," Sam offered as Dean snatched the spare tire and chucked it onto the ground.

"'S alright," he retorted in a low voice, "I got it, we'll be back on the road in a freaking minute."

Sam let out a deep sigh, "Dean—"

"I said I got it," Dean spat again, his face clear with agitation. Sam surrendered the jack to his older brother, watching for only a moment as Dean set to work quickly and efficiently.

"I guess I'll just wait in the car then," he muttered under his breath, turning back towards the front of the Impala. The younger hunter plopped onto the passenger's seat, leaving the door to hang open as he fidgeted with his fingernails. He certainly hoped that they found Castiel soon, that way Dean could get off his PMS binge. Sam wanted to find Cas, definitely, but deep down he just thought that Dean was over reacting—just a tiny bit. And, secretly, Sam also happened to wonder whether or not this was the sort of mood Dean settled into whenever it was he who went missing. Somehow he doubted it though, this just seemed _different_. Like there was just something so special about Cas that Dean obviously didn't feel like discussing with Sam.

Shaking his head Sam chuckled slightly to himself—there was no way. Maybe he was just paranoid, there was no way there was anything like _that _going on between Cas and his brother. Was there?

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**Author's Note: **Haha, Sammy's catching on! We can't have Mr. Stanford looking oblivious, now can we? But on a serious level, I apologize if anyone is getting _Castiel _and _Cathetel_ confused—I know their names are pretty similar. I really hadn't thought about that when searching through a list of angels I thought could be useful. Which her and Isda will definitely be useful throughout the story.

Hopefully next chapter we'll actually dive a little bit more into what Sam and Dean are doing to find Cas, so look forward to that. Until next time, thanks for reading!


	4. Ignorance Isn't Always Bliss

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, Supernatural belongs to Eric Kripke and large television corporations such as the CW. Any and all of the following is completely fictional and fan-made.

**Author's Note: **So I've returned with yet another chapter for you all to read—sorry I haven't been updating quite as quickly as I would've liked. Never the less though, the story continues with Dean and Sam finally reaching the encampment where Castiel is being held. Will they discover that he's actually there though?

Without anything further, please read on and enjoy!

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**Ignorance Isn't Always Bliss**

Dean didn't mind flat tires. Though they were a nuisance at times, he was basically a pro at fixing them by now. Which is why when they had to pull over because of this one, it was no big deal—of course, this would all be a whole Hell of a lot easier if the spare tire wasn't _flat_ as well. As soon as Dean found this out, he the extra tire to the ground prior to stomping and kicking it vigorously.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean shouted, heaving against the side of the Impala as the deep wave of frustration began to leave him.

"Dean, just chill out," Sam urged, "It could be worse."

"Really? How Sam? How could this possibly be any worse?" Dean snapped, turning to glare daggers at his brother.

"Well, it could be raining," Sam shrugged, hoping that humor would help to lighten the situation if just slightly.

Dean opened his mouth as though to speak, when suddenly the low rumbling of thunder could be heard emulating from the heaving looking clouds in the distance. Dean exchanged an awed expression with Sam, crossing his arms tightly across his chest. "You were saying?" he muttered, looking completely unamused.

"What?" Sam retorted defensively, "How was I supposed to know it was gonna do that?"

Dean said nothing, rolling his eyes as he turned to collect the spare tire and place it back in the car. A flash of lightning lit up the sky above just prior to another clap of thunder crashing down. Dean slipped into the driver's seat beside his brother, closing the door without a word. The elder hunter rolled his window before finally taking the time to slouch back in his seat.

Sam just looked at his brother, concern evident upon his brow. "What?" Dean asked, not even needing to look over at Sam to know he'd been watching him.

"Dean," Sam licked his lips hesitantly, "Why are you so worried about Cas? I mean, you know we're gonna find him, right?"

Dean couldn't help but jerk his head towards Sam in that instance. Almost as if on cue, rain began to splatter upon the windshield as though tears falling from the heavens. "Did you seriously just ask me that?" Dean questioned, his voice so low that it sounded like gravel in his throat, "Why wouldn't I be worried about Cas, Sam?"

Sam's brow softened in defense as he spoke, "I dunno, you just seem _different_. Like nothing else seems to matter—the apocalypse, Heaven, Hell. Nothing, Dean."

_That's because nothing else does... _Or at least that's what Dean wanted to say.

But he didn't. Somehow he didn't see that going over so well with Sam at this point, and so Dean thought it best to change the subject. "C'mon Sam, you know that's not true. I mean, Hell, I'd be acting the same way if it were you," Dean cleared his throat.

"Would you?" Sam challenged, looking his brother dead in the eye.

There came a sudden tapping at Dean's window which alerted them both, Sam instantly drawing his gun from its place at his side. Dean looked closer at the glass, coming to realize that the distorted figure beyond the window was indeed just a man. "Put that away," he hissed in a low voice.

Rolling down his window ever slightly, Dean peered over the rain-speckled glass watching as a man stood with an umbrella looking back at him. "Hey stranger," he said pleasantly—thankfully he hadn't seen Sam's pistol through the window just moments ago.

"Hey," Dean replied cautiously, cracking the window open further in which to see this man clearly. He looked young, the same age as Dean maybe, bearing dirty blonde hair and a five o'clock shadow. Other than that, he appeared to just be your typical country-like man—worn jeans, farm boots, and a rugged blue pick-up truck that just _happened_ to have a tow bed attached to it.

"Couldn't help but notice you boys got a flat tire," he nodded towards Dean's unfinished business at the front of the car, "Need a lift?"

Dean cleared his throat, raising his voice somewhat above the noise of the rainfall, "Actually my spare's flat. All we need is a pump and we can get going."

"Oh, well I got one back at the house. I could tow you that way if you'd like?" the man offered courteously.

Dean glanced over his shoulder towards Sam for an approval, who nodded his head in agreement, before turning back to face this kind stranger. "Sure," he smiled pleasantly.

It took a bit of work, but within no time all three men piled into the pick-up truck and were back on the road once more. For the first few minutes only the steady beat of the windshield wipers could be heard amidst the silence, before Sam finally decided to speak out. "Thank you," he said earnestly.

"Oh no problem," the man nodded, "God only knows how many times I've had to stop and change a flat on a road trip."

Dean and Sam exchanged an inconspicuous glance—a road trip, that could be their cover. "How'd you know we were traveling?" Dean asked.

The man chuckled somewhat, "Well, it's not really hard to guess. I mean, it's not every day you see a classic car like _that_ 'round here."

Dean couldn't help but smile with pride at the compliment offered to his baby. She was a beauty, that much was to be certain. "Well thank you," Dean cleared his throat, "I'm Dean by the way, Sam over here is my brother."

"Oh right," the man rolled his eyes as he had forgotten introductions, "Lucas, Lucas Becker. So Sam, Dean, where you boys from anyway?"

"Kansas," both brothers replied in unison—despite their travels, Lawrence still held a special place as being their birth-place.

"Ah, nothing like two wayward sons traveling far from home eh?" Lucas chuckled.

"Kansas fan?" Dean speculated.

"Yeah, you could say that," Lucas nodded, "And, uh, where are you headed?"

Dean looked towards Sam for guidance on this one. "Um, we don't know actually," Sam admitted, somewhat awkwardly, as he scratched the back of his head.

"What, are you guys lost or something?" Lucas frowned, glancing over towards Sam for the briefest of moments before returning his eyes to the road.

Sam continued on, "No, no we're not lost. We just don't know the name of the place."

"Well what's the area like? I can probably help if it's local," Lucas offered.

"Oh uh, small town, probably kind of backwoods. Out of the way," Sam replied, glancing at Dean all the while for confirmation.

Lucas seemed to squirm somewhat uncomfortably in his seat at Sam's description. "Sounds like Terra Anxo," he cleared his throat, "That's Gaelic."

Dean and Sam exchanged a somewhat confused look with each other. "So you know where it is?" Dean asked.

Lucas nodded, "I do, but I'm really not supposed to just take strangers there—ah, what the Hell, you guys seem pretty decent."

"We don't want you to get in trouble," Sam immediately jumped in.

"No, no it's fine," Lucas insisted, "We need some new faces around anyhow."

Sam still looked uneasy, but Dean patted him reassuringly on the shoulder. "Sammy relax," he muttered in a low whisper into his brother's ear. Sam said nothing, leaning back in his seat with his hands rested in his lap.

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Castiel and his fellow sisters all sat in silence within one stall, together. Every now and again Isda and Castiel would exchange hesitant glances, but otherwise a thick silence loomed over the solemn angels.

"It's quiet," Cathetel observed, bringing her knees close to her chest in which to wrap her arms around them.

Isda rolled her eyes, throwing Cathetel a sarcastic expression. "So what happens now?" Castiel pondered, his voice low.

Isda now directed her gaze towards him, concern evident in her eyes. "We wait," Cathetel responded blankly, "Wait to be used—wait to die."

Just then, almost as if on cue, the barn doors opened yet again and the humans Castiel was now becoming oh so familiar with passed through the archway. All three angels were on their feel almost instantly.

"What do you want?" Castiel demanded.

"Oh look, he speaks," the woman laughed cynically.

"You're _needed_," Nathan waggled his eyebrows in Isda's direction.

At first Castiel would've only assumed his intentions were strictly healing purposes only, but after just one look at Isda's grave expression, Castiel knew immediately there was a bigger scheme here. He opened his mouth in which to protest, when Cathetel lunged forward in rage. Within a split second, Nathan pulled an angelic blade from his jacket and pointed it dangerously close to Cathetel's throat. She panted at having to stop herself so suddenly, watching the tip of the blade ever cautiously. "I don't think so there, pretty girl," Nathan scolded in mockery.

Isda unexpectedly stepped between the two, locking eyes with Cathetel as though to say _I'll be fine_. Cathetel shook her head in despair, but Isda managed a faint reassuring smile. Lowering Nathan's blade, Isda proceeded forth waiting for the gate to be opened.

Nathan snickered to himself as he granted Isda temporary freedom from the cell, turning back to look towards Cathetel once more. "Don't worry," he said lustfully, "There's plenty to go around."

As the two then departed, the previously silenced woman approached the wall of the cell, a pile of clothes in hand. "As for you," she nodded in Castiel's direction, "You will be working lumber. I assume you know how to dress yourself?"

"Yes," Castiel replied, his expression stone cold.

She tossed the clothes at him then, hardly waiting to see if he'd caught them before making for the door again. "I'll return in five minutes, by which time they'd better be on you," she implored.

As soon as the door of the barn shut, Castiel shrugged off his trench coat before picking up the other clothing articles in which to examine them.

"You're lucky," Cathetel said suddenly, her eyes cast downward as she spoke.

Castiel turned to face her curiously, "I don't understand."

"They're putting you to work—_real_ physical labor," she urged, "Please don't tell me you're naive enough to believe the same is true for Isda, brother."

Castiel said nothing for a moment, running his fingers over the buttons of the dress shirt in preparation to remove it. "You misunderstand me," he cleared his throat, "I do pity Isda's vessel, yes, but it is only her vessel they are marring."

"Isda is connected to her vessel!" Cathetel exclaimed with a sudden burst of anger, "Don't you get it? We're _trapped_ in these bodies and we can't leave, even if we want to."

Slipping the shirt over his head that the woman had provided him, Castiel's couldn't help but allow his thoughts to drift to the people that he and his kind were indeed inhabiting – they had lives of their own, _families_. Jimmy Novak had a family, though Castiel was almost thankful that he was no longer living as of now. What a Hell-ish nightmare to be living indeed.

"I am alone in this body," he spoke quietly, pulling a pair of deep gray jeans around his waist.

"Well then, like I said before, you are quite lucky," Cathetel nearly sneered at him, crossing her arms tightly over her chest.

The human woman then returned as promised, opening the gate to the stall in which to escort Castiel elsewhere. "What about here?" Castiel asked, glancing hesitantly back towards Cathetel.

"She's a troublemaker," the woman retorted matter of factly, "Some solitude will do her good."

Cathetel glared at the woman but said nothing as she watched Castiel exit the stall. The woman clamped a hand tightly around Castiel's wrist which bore the bracelet, causing its metal to dig into his flesh. Castiel winced ever slightly, tugging his arm away from the woman jerkily.

"You don't need to restrain me," Castiel declared.

"Not but we can't have you running away, now can we?" the woman retorted.

Castiel paused simply to look at her, feeling that unspoken hatred bubbling up in the pit of his stomach once again. "Lead the way then," he muttered through clenched teeth.

The woman directed him along a gravel path, winding in and out behind stone buildings. Castiel kept a keen observation on his surroundings, for they could come in great use if he did indeed create an escape plan in the near future. As the two of them continued walking onward, they passed a young girl standing upon the back porch of what appeared to be a house. She didn't look very old, six at the most, with locks of dark hair which draped beyond her shoulders.

Castiel turned his head to face her as he trekked down the path, a faint smile flickering across his lips. The girl, however, did not return his friendly gesture instead glaring at him with the utmost intensity. Castiel swallowed hard as he directed his gaze forward once more, still feeling the girl's eyes boring holes in the back of his head. What was it about the people in this town?

At last Castiel and the human woman arrived at the appropriate destination—an endless scatter of angels, occupying both male and female vessels, chopping wood. Some worked to bring down entire oak or hemlock, while others split apart the massive trunks littering the ground already. Castiel frowned as he overlooked the scene before him—he supposed it was better than other i/activities/i he could be exploited into, but he still didn't approve. Angels doing the labor of man? Something about that just didn't sit right with him.

Suddenly another man, who appeared to be the leader of this operation, came forward with a somewhat puzzled expression upon his face. "Number two-forty-seven," the woman explained, as if that made much sense, "Thought you could use one more."

The man paused, eyeing Castiel from head to toe momentarily. "Yeah, he'll do. I got'im from here, thanks," the man nodded.

On that note the woman turned without another word and headed back down the path from which they had just come. "Now I only have one rule 'round these parts," the man cleared his throat, regaining Castiel's attention once more, "You respect me and I'll be sure to respect you as well—kind of a mutual give and take. Think you can do that?"

"Yes sir," Castiel replied simply, earning a smile from the man.

"Good, that's what I like to hear," the man beamed, "Think we got all the lumberjacks needed for right now. Why don't you start chopping over there by that guy?" He pointed to a middle-aged man with blonde hair who was cutting wood into smaller pieces but a few yards away. Castiel turned back to face the man who then handed him a rather weighty axe. "They should help you get started."

Castiel simply started blankly at the tool in his hand before turning to hesitantly approach the wood pile. So this is what the humans meant when describing what it meant to be the new kid at school...

"You are new," the other angel declared, it wasn't a question.

"I am," Castiel nodded, "I was instructed to chop wood with you."

The other angel snickered to himself somewhat. "Is that so?" he retorted directing his gaze upward.

Castiel froze the moment he saw his brother's eyes—he knew this angel, they'd served in the same garrison together. "Ecanus?" he asked breathlessly.

"Castiel," Ecanus gasped in surprise, "Brother, is that really you?"

Castiel smiled, joining his fellow brethren in a warm embrace. "Indeed it is," he replied as they pulled away from each other.

"I must say I'm fairly shocked to find you here. I mean, we all know you were on earth, but I had assumed you would be with your human. How is he?" Ecanus wondered curiously.

Castiel was slightly taken aback by Ecanus's choice of words—he'd never really thought of Dean as solely _his_ human, per say, but that thought did secretly please him. "The Winchesters are doing well from my understanding," Castiel responded naively.

"And what of Dean?" Ecanus pried ever slightly at Castiel's lack of information of the eldest Winchester.

"_Fine_," Castiel said somewhat hesitantly, "Why is it you wish to know?"

Ecanus stared at Castiel in disbelief, as though his reasoning was the most obvious thing in the world. "The vessel, of course," he cleared his throat.

"Michael's," Castiel clarified, "I see you're still in line with their plans."

Ecanus let out a deep sigh of exasperation, "Brother, you cannot blame me for obeying simple orders."

"Even if you know those orders are wrong?" Castiel challenged, arching an eyebrow suspiciously.

Ecanus opened his mouth as though about to speak when suddenly a voice echoed from across the way. "Hey guys!" a woman called, "Little less talk, little more chop!"

Without a word Ecanus turned back towards the wood pile, beginning to chop the mighty pieces of trunk into small log formations. Castiel watched for a moment, before deciding to mimic the actions with his own axe. "Who is she?" he asked in a hushed voice.

"From what I've gathered, her name is Serena," Ecanus replied prior to forcefully hacking into a piece of wood, "I believe she's one of the leaders of this establishment."

"What do they even call this place?" Castiel inquired breathlessly.

Ecanus cleared his throat, "The humans don't seem to have an exact name for the encampment—we tend to call it 'wayside', as it seems to be on the wayside of humanity and, well, _damnation_."

"Wayside," Castiel repeated to himself.

"Love is dead here, Castiel," Ecanus said to him in a firm voice, "If you don't think there's a deeper peril than Hell to be found here on earth, I'd strongly advise you to reconsider."

"There is reason for hope though," Castiel retorted.

"Why? Because you believe Dean Winchester will come for you?" Ecanus challenged sharply.

Castiel declared, "I know he will."

"He's better off dead," Ecanus sneered somewhat.

Suddenly from behind them the crackling crunch of a branch alerted the two angels. Turning to face the culprit, both Castiel and Ecanus were surprised to find this Serena woman standing promptly behind them. She appeared to be slightly short for her age, which was most likely mid-twenties, with short blonde hair and deep brown eyes. There was something about her overall posture though which made Castiel's stomach lurch merely at the sight of her.

"My, my, you two are a bunch of regular Chatty Cathy's aren't you?" she said, folding her arms tightly over her chest.

Ecanus rolled his eyes before turning back to the wood pile in front of him. "We're getting back to work, calm down," he muttered under his breath.

"I'm sorry, was that sarcasm I heard dripping from your lips, angel?" Serena mocked, taking a threatening step closer to Ecanus's position.

Castiel suddenly outstretched his arm before her, halting Serena in her steps. "Please," he urged, "We don't want any trouble. It's my fault, I kept asking him questions about the encampment."

"Well then, newbie," Serena cleared her throat, "What'aya wanna know?"

Castiel and Ecanus exchanged a hesitant look before Castiel returned his focus onto the woman before him. "Just its name. I'd like to become familiar with this place if I'm indeed going to be trapped, and most likely die, here," Castiel retorted matter of factly.

A smug, almost devilish, grin crept upon Serena's lips as she eyed him from head to toe. It made Castiel somewhat uneasy to have her eyes scanning over him in such a manner, but he stood firm matching her stance perfectly. "What's your name, angel?" she asked at last.

"Castiel," he replied with icy pronunciation.

Brushing a few loose strands of hair from her face, Serena tilted her head in a thoughtful manner. She opened her mouth to speak when suddenly she was interrupted by the man which had given Castiel the axe. "Serena, they're looking for you at the main gate," he said, glancing up from a clipboard.

"What for?" she frowned in annoyance.

"Something about new arrivals," the man cleared his throat, "Two guys Lucas apparently picked up off the side of the pass."

Without another word, Serena turned away from Castiel and headed in a direction which mostly concealed in woodland. Castiel pondered for a moment where exactly this _main gate_ was located and, more specifically, how it was operated. "We should get back to work," Ecanus announced suddenly. Castiel nodded in silence, his eyebrows still knitted together in deep thought as he began to drive his axe into the bulky stacks of wood.

Meanwhile, Serena trekked along the partially waterlogged dirt path which had turned to a thick and goopy mud as a result of the past storm. New arrivals—she didn't like the sound of that. All those involved in this operation had something in common, would take up for one another. It was like they had become family after so much time. Newcomers wouldn't exactly approve of their methods if by chance they happened to see something they weren't really supposed to see. Marching over to where Lucas had parked his truck, Serena prepared to engage in some kind of heated discussion her bitchface already set in place.

"Watch your step guys," Lucas called to Sam and Dean as the trio prepared to exit the pick-up. Sam was the first one out on the passenger's side, splashing into a grimy puddle as soon as he'd set his foot on the ground. Dean snickered to himself as he heard Sam curse under his breath, careful not to make the same mistake his brother had just now.

"Lucas!" Serena hollered suddenly, "What the Hell is this?"

"What the Hell is what?" Lucas frowned, making his way towards her ever cautiously.

"Newcomers, seriously? What next, are we gonna open up a welcoming committee for the homeless?" Serena hissed sharply.

Lucas shook his head, clutching Serena lightly by the forearm as he led her slightly away from the brothers' location. "Look, don't get mad at me alright," he muttered through gritted teeth, "I saw these guys on the side of the road, I think they might be hunters."

"Hunters?" Serena asked skeptically.

"Yeah, I mean livin' on the road, crappy fake back story, the whole nine yards," Lucas nodded.

Serena glanced over his shoulder, overlooking both Sam and Dean curiously. Dean gave her a dopey smile, Sam not really paying attention as he shoved his hands deeper into the pockets of his jeans. "I dunno, I mean are you sure about these guys?"

"What's going on here?" another voice echoed from behind them suddenly. Serena turned slightly only to see Nathan coming up the path, tucking his shirt in as he went along.

Dean, completely unaware of Lucas and Serena's present conversation, snickered elbowing Sam lightly in the side, "Looks like somebody was, well, doin' the nasty."

"What, are you like twelve?" Sam chuckled in response. Dean was about to mutter some catchy phrase in return, when suddenly something just over a distant hill caught his eye. A woman—she was being escorted away by another woman, looking as though she were restrained by handcuffs or something of the like. He watched them until they disappeared behind the corner of a large stone building, a house Dean assumed. "What's wrong?" Sam asked, seeing the perplexed expression upon his brother's face.

Dean licked his lips delicately, rubbing a hand over his chin in thought. "Anything about these place seem particularly _shady_ to you?" he asked in a hushed voice, being sure to include the familiar quote of Cas's description of the hunters/kidnapers in his sentence.

Sam's expression softened almost instantly, some kind of reality spreading over the boys in unison. "Heyya fellas," Nathan greeted with a bright smile as he approached Sam and Dean.

"Hey," Sam replied simply, shaking Nathan's outstretched hand.

"How's it going?" Dean nodded solemnly.

"Eh, not too bad," Nathan shrugged, "I'm Nathan, that's Lucas as I'm sure you know, and Serena. We're the basic overseers of the camp, but it was my father who actually established this place."

Sam stroked his chin thoughtfully, "And how long ago was that?"

"Oh, I'd say about four years ago give or take," Nathan nodded.

"And what exactly is it that you all do?" Dean cleared his throat, somewhat obnoxiously.

Nathan frowned, scratching his head. "Um, I'm not quite sure I know what you're getting at. I mean, we manufacture our own lumber, as well as some hand crafts, but we mostly just stick to our own. See, we all share a similar experience so we don't like a lot of interference from the outside."

"That experience being?" Sam asked curiously.

"Betrayal," Nathan replied coyly, "Anguish, fear. This is basically a safe house for the broken. So what brings you boys here?"

Dean opened his mouth as though about to speak, when Sam cut him off sharply. "I guess you could say we're a little broken ourselves," he said, his voice low. Dean glanced at him almost scornfully, shifting his weight as he crossed his arms tightly over his chest.

"Well, that's a shame to hear that, but we're glad to have you with us. Welcome," Nathan smiled, "Lucas, why don't you find these two gents a room?"

"Sure thing," Lucas nodded, "Follow me guys."

"I didn't catch your names," Serena suddenly called, just as the group of men had begun to migrate away.

"Dean," Dean replied in a gruff voice, "Dean and Sam Winchester."

On that note, the trio turned and started making for one of the stone houses in the distance. Serena in the meantime, could barely catch her breath her eyes widening in the purest of shock. Nathan, who had noticed the color draining from her face, was quickly at her side. "Serena, baby, what is it?" he asked.

"Dean Winchester," she gasped breathlessly.

Nathan frowned, "Yeah, what about him?"

"It's him Nathan," Serena clenched his shirt tightly within her palms, "He's the one, the hunter rescued from Hell."

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**A/N: **PLEASE READ—So again, I'm really sorry that I didn't get this chapter out sooner but I do thank all of you for being so patient with me. I'd just like to let you know though that I plan on taking a mini-hiatus from writing just for a few weeks or so. There are some things going on in real life right now which need prioritizing and also I'd like to work on a few more fictions in the mean time.

There are some other chapters that need to be updated and all that goodness, but also I have another Dean/Cas fic planned out for my upcoming one year anniversary of writing here. Yaay! I know it may seem ridiculous to celebrate that, but oh well. I just want to have things organized, that way my writing can solely be focused on those two works and not like a gazillion others haha. Anyhow, thanks for reading and I really hope you enjoyed!


	5. Give It All Away

**Disclaimer: **All materials belong to their respectful owners. Any and all of the following written is completely, one-hundred percent, fan-written and I claim no profit for it what so ever.

**Author's Note: **Hello! Long time no see but alas I have returned with yet another suspenseful chapter that I hope you enjoy. I forgot just how much I love to write this story haha. Um, I thought I should warn you that there will be a bit of suggestive themes as well a slightly increased amount in swearing coming from some characters in this chapter. Nothing I'm sure you can't handle haha.

Anyhow though, I'm not gonna blabber on with anything further so happy reading!

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**Give It All Away**

Castiel awoke with a deep coldness surrounding his body. Clutching his arms desperately for warmth, the angel shivered as he lifted his head from the place where it had been resting amidst the straw.

"You must be exhausted," Cathetel observed from the far corner of the stall. She had her knees curled closely inward touching her chest, her arms wrapped snuggly around them.

Castiel rubbed his eyes wearily, remembering a time when he never even thought sleep would be a remote possibility. "You make it sound like an accusation," he cleared his throat.

"No, just a speculation," she held up her hands defensively, "It's just, I've never seen a newcomer sleep so much."

Castiel nodded in understanding, her assumptions made sense. Frowning, he glanced around curiously. "Where is Isda?" he asked.

Cathetel cast her gaze downward towards the floor. "She's been called away early," the angel replied simply.

"She sleeps quite a lot also," Castiel commented.

"Well that can be expected of someone who goes through horrors we can scarcely envision," Cathetel spat bitterly, though Castiel knew her anger was directed towards the humans and not himself.

He folded his hands in his lap, furrowing his brow in question, "Why do they abuse her so?"

"She is not the most powerful of angels," Cathetel let out a deep sight, "But Isda's gifts surprise even me at times. She is truly remarkable and so that makes her a valuable asset.

Castiel sat in deep thought for a moment, simply contemplating. "But why would that man Nathan hold such an interest in her?" he questioned.

Cathetel rubbed her forehead as she reasoned the possibilities, "Isda's vessel is what I would assume attractive by human standards, though I don't think these people realize that we angels are technically not what our vessels allow us to appear to be."

"They don't realize these bodies are not a part of us," Castiel murmured in a low voice.

"Right," Cathetel nodded, "Not only that though, but it's just the obvious human nature repeated over centuries. Take a look at the German people during World War II for example, some bed with the Jews their inferiors of the time. Or even before that in Colonial America, white landowners breeding with their slaves. Something about the sexual dominance makes the humans feel as though they have accomplished something drastic."

"That's barbaric," Castiel's face turned sour in disgust.

"More than they could possibly realize," Cathetel replied simply.

Suddenly, the doors to the barn opened quickly and Nathan stepped inside, accompanied by his still unnamed female worker as well as Serena. "On your feet," Nathan commanded Castiel, holding his hand up as Cathetel stepped forward also, "No, not you. Just him."

"What is it you require of me?" Castiel questioned.

"Chopping wood of course. Like a good little angel," the other woman smirked sarcastically.

Cathetel opened her mouth as though to speak when Castiel laid a hand on her shoulder firmly. Gazing into his knowing eyes, she let out a deep sigh gritting her teeth viciously. Castiel, meanwhile, side stepped her and proceeded out of the stall.

He followed the woman down the corridor towards the entrance leaving Nathan and Serena to secure Cathetel inside the stall once more.

"Don't worry," Nathan snickered leaning in close, "You'll be put to good use soon enough."

Cathetel drew back somewhat hurling a clump of spit at Nathan's face within an instant. "Peto Abyssus!" (go to Hell) she shouted bitterly.

Nathan stared furiously at her as he wiped the saliva from his cheek. "You're gonna pay for that," he growled before turning to storm out of the barn.

Serena lingered a while longer, watching Cathetel with much intent. "He means it you know," she nodded cynically, "You should ask your little friend how he goes about punishing bitches like you."

Cathetel's heart froze—Isda, what was happening to her now? Cathetel only hoped that her sister would manage to persevere. She had to, otherwise Cathetel honestly didn't know how she would continue to survive in this place. She had Castiel, yes, but she and Isda had become particularly close in the long months past.

Backing up ever so slowly, Cathetel slid down the nearby wall and laid numbly allowing her body to fall limply as she sat in the utmost silence. Serena snickered lightly as she received an answer she was expecting, now turning to follow the others out of the barn. She locked the doors securely behind her, striding off in the direction in which Castiel was being led.

The angel and strange woman walked side by side, darkness still surrounding them as the sun was barely breaching the horizon. A strange tension had begun to grow between them even though no words had been exchanged. Or perhaps that was the problem. Whatever it may, Castiel was growing tired of feeling as though he were being blamed for something which was beyond his knowledge. Clearing his throat, he grabbed the woman's attention. "What?" she almost hissed.

Castiel was somewhat taken aback, but decided to continue onward. "I was just curious of your name," he said simply.

The woman paused abruptly, looking Castiel bitterly in the eye. "Why would you possibly want to know my name?" she demanded.

Castiel searched her hazel eyes with the utmost interest—something about them kept her inner emotions concealed, hidden away. Almost like she never wished for him, or any other angel for that matter, to truly know her. Castiel shook his head blankly, "I was merely curious."

"Well, if you must know, it's Katelyn alright? Not Katie and definitely not Kat, got it?" she snapped, holding a finger up close to him in warning as she spoke.

His frown deepened. "Yes," he replied simply, still looking ever so closely into her eyes.

On that note, an almost sadistic smile spread onto the Katelyn's face. "Yeah," she muttered quietly, "See, I know what you're trying to do. You're trying to _read_ me, get inside my head. Well I got news for you, my little feathered friend—it's not gonna work. I got mixed up with you douche bags once, and believe me I know not to make the same mistake twice."

Just then, the sound of gravel crunch upon the path made both Castiel and Katelyn turn sharply. Serena was a mere four feet from where the two were standing. "Katelyn!" she called coming just a bit closer, "Is this here angel causing you trouble?"

Katelyn eyed at Castiel, and for a moment the angel was almost certain she was planning to turn him in. He was shocked by her response, however. "No," Katelyn shook her head simply, "He and I were just having a fine discussion about _authority_. Weren't we?"

Castiel nodded almost hastily, feeling slightly uncomfortable as Serena's sharp gaze fell upon him. For the briefest of seconds all was quiet, some unspoken fear growing in the pit of Castiel's stomach. He honestly didn't know what these people were capable—he had witnessed their cruelty towards his various siblings and so he was sure they would show no mercy to him specifically. Serena opened her mouth as though to speak once more, when suddenly Katelyn pointed just over her shoulder.

"Behind you," she instructed.

Serena turned, surprised to see Nathan coming steadily down the path also towards them. "Nathan," she mumbled, her brow furrowed, "What is it?"

Katelyn cleared her throat suddenly, "I'm going to escort him to the lumber yard." Her statement was unnecessary, but Castiel figured she just wanted to break the awkwardness of the situation. Without another word, both of them turned and he began to follow her once more.

Serena took a few steps closer to Nathan, folding her arms tightly across her chest in impatience. "Look," Nathan rubbed a hand wearily over his forehead, "You remember yesterday, talking about that Dean Winchester guy?"

Snapping her focus towards his words Serena leaned in just slightly closer. "Yeah, what about him? Have you found something?" she urged.

Nathan glanced around, as though to make sure no intruding ears were listening in on their conversation. "Well, I did a bit of research just to confirm that he is who you say he is," he began slowly, "But I, well, I found some other information you should come take a look at."

Serena hesitated, "In your office?"

"Well yeah, I mean it's stored on the computer," Nathan shrugged.

She edged away from him slightly, biting her lower lip somewhat still in thought. Serena didn't like Nathan's office—though it was just a typical setting, smelling of coffee and cigarettes, there was also a deep dark factor about it as well. She and Nathan weren't exactly exclusive, they never had been, but the just the thought of what he did to those girls, _angels_, made her feel dirty to be around him. Contaminated, even. "Couldn't we just use my laptop?" she suggested.

Nathan's face fell as he was evidently becoming irritated. Swiveling his shoulders in which to keep calm, Nathan cleared his throat. "Well, I have it stored in a text file," he retorted, his voice an icy tone.

Serena nodded reluctantly, receiving a broad smile from the man. Following him back along the path, they came to his office within a few moments in which Nathan pulled out a small brass key as to unlock the door. As soon as Serena stepped foot inside the tiny building, all the familiar scents and aromas came back her. In her early months upon first arriving in the camp, she and Nathan had spent many hours here. On his sofa, namely—she would poor her heart out and Nathan, well, would do his best to _comfort _Serena and _lighten the mood_ of the situation. His methods were less than helpful, to be quite honest, but Serena enjoyed the quick fucks while they had lasted.

That is, until a prettier or younger angel came along to suit Nathans needs. Shaking her head vigorously though, Serena tried to push those thoughts away. These angels were only getting what was getting to them. Period.

Stepping into a small cubical-like space Nathan had set up, he offered Serena a seat in the black chair positioned in front the desk. She smiled a light thanks, scooting herself in, in which to better see what information was displayed on the monitor. Nathan made a few clicks, scrolling through several folders until coming to a lone text document. Sentences were scattered all over the white space, and Serena found it rather difficult to keep up with them.

"So, what does this mean?" she frowned, glancing over her shoulder at Nathan.

"Well," Nathan cleared his throat, coming around towards the front of the chair in which to sit upon the table top, "Basically, Dean Winchester is marked. Like physically, by his angel. Not only that, but he keeps in close contact with the damn thing. They fuckin' work together, if you can believe it."

Serena shook her head, casually running her fingers through her hair. "They work together?" she gaped, "Wha-, I mean, how is that even possible?"

Nathan shrugged, "Hell if I should know. But I say we get over to his room and kick the freaking guy's ass!"

With that, the man hopped up from his half-sitting position and was ready to march out of the office before Serena grabbed a hold of his arm. "Nathan wait!" she shouted.

Nathan pulled his arm away from her furiously. "What!" he hollered back, "Just what am I waiting for, huh? C'mon Serena, this guy is obviously on their side!"

"But Nate, he could help us," Serena urged.

Rolling his eyes, Nathan made a snorted lightly. "Oh really? And just what makes you so sure he's even gonna be willing to help us?"

"Look I don't know. I don't know, okay! But," Serena swallowed hard, hesitating on her next words, "But he could be the only one to help me bring Brent back."

"Hey, you don't think that I want that too?" Nathan questioned, his tone suddenly becoming softer as he grasped her shoulders.

Serena looked towards the ceiling as she felt salty tears beginning to fill her eyes. "I know, I know," she stammered in a shaky voice, "But I, I just miss him so much Nathan."

"Shh, shhh," Nathan cooed, pulling Serena in towards his chest as she now let her sobs flow freely, "I know you do. We all miss him, he was a great man. Lucky to be your brother."

His words seemed to make Serena only cry harder though. "And the just the fact that he's burning," she blubbered, "He was a good guy. He doesn't deserve Hell."

From her place nestled in the far corner of the back room, Isda could hear every word spoken. Her eyes widened in fear as she began to make a connection, piecing together the facts. She knew Castiel was Dean Winchester's angel, that was a fact known throughout The Host. But what could these humans possibly want with him? She couldn't let them harm him, she had to warn him—somehow.

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Dean hadn't slept all night. Honestly, if the hunter would've had it his way, he'd have every inch of the encampment searched by dawn. But, seeing as Sam was indeed Sam, he had insisted they take the more _discreet _approach. And so, Dean had laid in bed for oh so many hours silently pretending to be asleep. He knew, however, he could give up the convincing act once loud snores began erupting from his brother. Flickering his eyes open slowly, the hunter threw the blankets off his body feeling gooseflesh flourish over the newly exposed skin.

Walking stealthily through the darkness, Dean approached the window nestled in the far corner of the room. Grasping the curtains gently, he pulled them aside in which to gaze out upon the star-filled sky. The night had felt extremely lonely to the hunter for some reason, and he found himself reaching his free arm up in which to cup his bare shoulder. In doing so, Dean felt his fingers brush over the still protruding handprint which marred his skin. He didn't mind it though—in fact, he actually enjoyed touching it. The skin that had once burned with such raging power had now healed over to a surprisingly smooth scar.

A sudden orange glow caught the hunter's eye, and Dean watched as sunlight slowly began to spread over the horizon darting in out between the various buildings of this establishment. Dean wondered what kind of place this really was. He was nearly positive that Nathan's claim of it to be a _home for the broken_ was a load of crap. No way a random group of people decide to create an encampment like this just out of the goodness of their hearts. No, they were definitely hiding something.

Letting out a long drawn sigh, the hunter turned in which to collect his duffle bag from its place upon the floor. Lifting it up silently, Dean brought it atop the bed and began to dig out his clothes for the day. Stripping quickly, praying all the while that Sam wouldn't wake up and turn this into a mega-awkward moment, Dean pulled on his typical jeans and t-shirt before grabbing his boots off the floor as well. He was able to slip his foot inside them with ease, prior to pulling the laces tight in which to better secure the shoes. Within a few moments thereafter Dean had proceeded to the door, shutting it lightly behind him as he made his exit.

The air outside as it hit him was much colder than he had expected, at least in comparison to the warmth of the room he'd been standing in just moments ago. Even so, Dean was now most definitely glad he had decided to wear his leather jacket after all. Popping the collar, the hunter burrowed his hands deeper into his pockets as he began to trek along down the path. Tiny stones of gravel flew up as Dean walked, diving in ever which direction and landing with a light crunch as they settled. The hunter became so mesmerized by this simple pattern, that he hardly noticed as he began to wonder from the path. That is, until he stepped foot in the grass—glancing upward, Dean caught sight of a most beautiful pond before him. Its surface shimmered with sparkles of the dawn's early light, the water almost completely still with the exception of a few fellow geese scattered throughout the area.

Dean breathed the scene in deeply. It vaguely reminded him of something you'd see off a postcard, so beautiful. As he heard footsteps behind him though, Dean swiftly turned.

"Hi," Lucas greeted casually, holding a beige-colored coffee cup within his hands.

"Hey," Dean replied as Lucas came to stand beside him.

"Beautiful out here, ain't it?" Lucas sighed, his eyes scanning almost wistfully over the terrain, "Could almost get lost out here."

"Yeah," Dean agreed, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

Lucas sipped his coffee, clearing his throat shortly thereafter, "So uh, what brings you up and about so early?

Dean cast his gaze down towards the ground, catching sight of a few stray stones which had made their way into the grass. "Couldn't sleep," he admitted after a long drawn pause.

"Ah," Lucas nodded understandingly, "Well, it is a new place after all. Probably a little more rugged than you're used to, am I right?"

Dean chuckled somewhat, licking his lips, "Uh not quite. My brother and I, we're actually on the road quite a bit. Lotta motels."

Lucas frowned at him slightly, "Really? Hmm, you guys really didn't seem like the type."

"Yeah, you'd be surprised," Dean cleared his throat semi-awkwardly.

Drinking once more from his mug, Lucas let out a deep sigh. "Well, we usually serve breakfast up at the dining hall by the main gate if you're interested. Afterwards we could get working on that tire," he suggested.

"Sounds good," Dean nodded, "Can I walk with you?"

"Yeah sure," Lucas smiled in reply.

The two turned away from the pond but, instead of going back the way the way they came, they trudged forward into a part of the encampment Dean had not yet seen. There were many more trees scattering the area not as many homes, or what Dean presumed to be homes, to be found. To his right, however, the hunter noticed several large barns laid out. They looked just like your typical storage place, or even possibly a stable—faded wooden siding with a rather primitive-looking shingle roof. One aspect about these barns that really caught Dean's eye though, was the fact that there was a huge padlock along with some lengthy chains barring the entrances. As if to keep something out. Or in.

"What uh, do you use those for?" Dean questioned, pointing in direction in which the barns sat atop the hill.

The color seemed to drain from Lucas's face for the briefest of seconds, and for a moment Dean thought the man might be sick. He quickly recovered however, shaking his head vigorously as though to shove all his worries away. "Oh," he hesitated before continuing on, "You know, storage and stuff. We mostly keep corn and wheat as well as some other dried vegetables and grains in there. Some are even used for a place to keep construction tools and the lot."

Dean eyed him cautiously before nodding that he had understood. If that hadn't just been the most conspicuous lie, well then Dean didn't know what was. He said nothing as they continued on though, hoping that his silences would provide naivety. The last thing he and Sam needed were for these people to grow suspicious of them. If that were to happen, then they might not have any chance of finding Cas.

_Castiel_—Dean missed him so. Yearned for him.

Coming up over a slight hill, Dean and Lucas were back in civilization once more. They passed a few homes before pausing briefly in front of a smaller stone building—it actually had many windows along the walls despite its size, though they were all concealed with what appeared to be some kind of heavy drapes. Locking the front door was Nathan, Serena standing by his side with flushed cheeks and bloodshot eyes.

"Wait here," Lucas instructed as he approached them.

Dean watched as Lucas spoke in hushed voices to them, unsure of what they were saying. Both Nathan and Serena glanced over at him in unison, Serena offering Dean a faint smile in greeting. Dean nodded back at her, digging his hands further into his pockets. After just a few moments, Lucas returned rubbing his forehead wearily. "Everything okay?" Dean asked curiously.

"Oh yeah, yeah. Serena just uh, well she's kinda going through a rough time right now, you know?" Lucas cleared his throat.

"Yeah," Dean replied simply, "What building is that anyway? It's a kinda small."

"Oh that's just an office building. Nathan keeps records and that kind of technical bullshit all up in there," Lucas chuckled.

Dean laughed lightly in response, feeling glad that apparently someone other than himself was opposed to all the nerd work. Clearing his throat though, the hunter straightened up slightly as Nathan and Serena approached he and Lucas. "So Dean," Nathan smiled, "Can we treat you to breakfast?" he motioned to a long building just behind him.

Dean nodded, "Uh yeah sure. I should probably let my brother know first." He was about to turn away when suddenly Lucas caught his arm.

"C'mon man, it's still early," Lucas insisted, "Let him sleep a while, hmm?"

"Yeah," Nathan agreed, catching Dean's eyes with a most intense cold stare.

In the back of his mind, Dean felt as though he were being ganged up on for some strange reason. He knew he'd feel more secure having Sam around, but he didn't want to make a scene and so he shrugged off Lucas's hand before turning back to the group. "Lead the way," he smiled dimly.

There was a somewhat awkward silence as the four of them made for what was apparently the dining hall, which surprisingly was unlocked—maybe this wasn't some kind of conspiracy after all. Shutting the door lightly behind him, Dean was relieved as he smelled sausage and other delightful breakfast foods cooking in the back room. The clattering of pots and pans could be heard and Dean was thankful that other people were around. Nathan, however, led the group to the furthest end of one of the long tables which was nestled close to the corner of the building. Quite a long way from the kitchen, Dean observed.

The hunter pulled out one of the plastic fold-out chairs and had a seat alongside Lucas. Serena sat directly across from him, Nathan diagonal. For some reason, Serena seemed to be keep her eyes focused intently on her fingers as she toyed with them almost out of nervousness.

"So," Dean cleared his throat, leaning forward somewhat to rest his hands upon the table.

Lucas leaned back casually in his chair. "Dean I'm telling you, you are gonna love the pancakes the chefs make. Pile on some syrup and butter, it's like an orgasm for your tongue," he enthused cheerfully.

Dean grimaced slightly at that thought. "Oh um, I'll take your word for it," he smiled back cautiously.

Almost as if on cue, a tall man dressed in a white apron came out from the swinging doors of the kitchen bearing a tray which held multiple plates filled with delicious food for them all to consume. Behind him another chef, a woman, carried a similar platter only instead with mugs of hot coffee balancing steadily atop its surface. Dean smiled his thanks as both a plate and cup were placed before him, nonchalantly glancing at the others for a cue when to begin. Lucas wasted no time, pouring what was probably an unnecessary amount of syrup all over his pancakes before smothering them butter. Serena and Nathan ate more serenely, taking small bites and chewing cordially with their mouths closed.

Dean raised his knife in which to cut his own meal, slicing only an inch or so through the fluffy pancake before dropping the silverware abruptly. The others all paused their own eating, glancing up at him with bewildered expressions. "Enough foreplay," the hunter declared gruffly, "Let's get on with it."

"On with what?" Lucas asked through a mouthful of food.

"Fine, right to business then," Nathan agreed, pushing his plate away from him slightly prior to picking up his coffee cup.

Serena held her cup close to her, sipping at random intervals. Her eyes, however, never left Dean for an instant. Which of course was somewhat unnerving, but mostly just made Dean anxious for whatever to come next. "What's going on?" Lucas asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"We need to have a private discussion with Dean, if you don't mind," Nathan replied simply, directing his hand toward the door as a signal for Nathan to leave.

Lucas's eyes shifted between Serena and Nathan, "Do this have anything to do with what you told me earlier?"

Suddenly Serena's head snapped up. "That's none of your damn business," she hissed, "Why don't you just go?"

"Okay, okay jeeze I'm leaving," Lucas retorted quickly arising from his seat before making for the entry way.

Dean watched as to make sure Lucas was completely out of ear range before continuing on. "So what's all this about?" he asked in a dim voice.

"You're smart Dean, gotta give you that," Nathan said casually, mock cheering the hunter with his coffee cup.

"Yeah well I try," Dean shrugged, "But just uh, don't blow smoke up my ass okay? It'll ruin my autopsy."

Nathan opened his mouth as though to say something when suddenly Serena cut him off, "Nathan he's right. We should just get to the point."

"You went to Hell," Nathan blurted out suddenly.

Dean could feel his throat tighten unexpected, his heart seemingly skipping a beat. "Wher- how d'you know that?" he asked, feeling desperate to find out where they got their information from.

Nathan smiled smugly, "We have our sources."

"Course you do," Dean retorted equally as sharp.

Nathan leaned forward carefully in his seat, his eyes still narrowed as he continued he continued to gaze upon the hunter before him. "You think you have us all figured out don't you?" he muttered, "We're people, just like you. We have pasts, histories. Cuts the puncture to deep to actually fully heal. You think you know anything about us? Think again pal."

Dean licked his lips delicately, "I take it there's a point to all this."

"An angel pulled you out of Hell," Serena said simply, "I just want to know which one."

Dean frowned, her question suddenly hitting home. "What makes you think I even know?" he asked carefully.

"Come on Dean, don't dick with us," Nathan interjected, "Like I said, we have sources. We know you work with said angel. We know you've been in contact with him for the past year practically."

Dean swallowed hard, his eyes glancing vigorously around the room almost as though the solution for his all his problems might be splattered on the wall. Perhaps if he gave them Cas's name, they could help him find the angel. Dean just knew he had to find Cas soon, he honestly was unsure how much longer he could handle the angel's absence. Clearing his throat, he looked up at the two people before him. They stared eagerly, waiting for his answer with baited breath. Dean said, "Castiel. His name is Castiel."

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**A/N: **So again, I apologize for my delay in updating but I'm back now and so there will definitely be more frequent updates from this point on haha. I have some big plans for this fic and… possibly a sequel, dun dun dun! I really hope that you'll enjoy the direction I steer this in, in the next few chapters.

I know I'm excited! Thanks so much for reading, reviews are love ^_^


	6. Bite The Hand That Feeds

**Disclaimer: **All materials belong to their respectful owners. Any and all of the following written is completely, one-hundred percent, fan-written and I claim no profit for it what so ever.

**Author's Note: **Alright, so this chapter is quite the plot thickener if I may say so myself. It does jump around a little so I hope it's not difficult to follow or anything. And, for the record, there are some turn of events that may shock you.

Still I hope nobody's disappointed, happy reading!

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**Bite The Hand That Feeds**

Dean said, "Castiel. His name is Castiel."

Serena eyes widened in that instant—she knew the exact angel he spoke of. She had met him, well, not but a day ago. Was it all really so simple? The solution was right there under her nose and she never took the time to notice. "C- Castiel did you say?" she stammered breathlessly.

"Yeah," Dean nodded solemnly, "He's actually really great, for an angel. I mean, he's not a dick like the others. He cares about people, you know?" The hunter actually found himself smiling at those words which were ever so true.

"No, we wouldn't know," Nathan frowned sternly, "Angels have shown us no mercy."

Dean wasn't quite sure how to respond to this. Sure, he knew some angels could be complete and utter bastards, but that definitely wasn't Cas. It was hard to defend his angel though when talking to someone who knew nothing but cruelty from the host of Heaven.

"I should go," Serena declared suddenly.

Nathan glanced up at her in surprise, "Now? Where?"

"I just," she hesitated, "I gotta go."

Nathan reached for her wrist, "Serena—"

"No!" she yelled back him, fury burning in her eyes, "Just let me alone."

He instantly released her wrist, both he and Dean watching as she made for the door in a hurry. Dean cleared his throat, "Am I missing something here?"

Nathan let out a deep sigh, running a hand through his hair thoughtfully. "Remember how I told you that everyone here shares a common factor of betrayal?" he began simply.

"Yeah," Dean nodded.

Nathan licked his lips, "Well angels are the ones who betrayed us. God, His soldiers, they've abandoned us when we've needed them most. My father was hardened by this, and so after his passing I just couldn't sit by and do nothing."

Dean frowned, "So what exactly is it that you _do_ here?"

"We _protect_ one another," Nathan was quick to retort, "This is a sanctuary. It's not often we here of such good angels, like this Castiel you speak of."

Dean leaned forward in desperation, "Please, you gotta believe me, Cas is—"

"I can't," Nathan cut the hunter off sharply, "If I believe you, then that means all of this, my life's work, will practically be in vein."

Dean let out a long drawn sigh. "I don't get it, I really don't," he admitted in defeat.

Nathan chuckled half-heartedly, "I didn't expect you too. I have to go Dean. Just, get your brother and get out of here. I think it's best if you left."

On that note, Nathan arose from his seat and swiftly traced Serena's footsteps out of the dining hall. Quickly he trekked back to his office, finding that the door was already unlocked. Stepping inside, he found Serena preparing to escort Isda back to her cell. "Where are you taking her?" he demanded

"She should go back to the barn," Serena insisted, "You don't need to keep her here."

Once more, Nathan placed a firm hand upon Serena's wrist, halting her in her path. "Serena, what's going on?" he demanded.

Serena's eyes darted between Isda and Nathan for what felt like forever. She knew this angel in particular could not speak, but even so Serena really didn't feel comfortable sharing valuable information around her. "Let me take her back first, then we'll talk," she said simply.

Nathan stepped aside, watching intently as the two of them disappeared through the doorway. Serena was silent as she led Isda on the back pathways towards the barn and unlocked the large wooden doors. As soon as the two of them entered Cathetel, who had nearly dozed off in the stall, was on her feet rubbing the sleep out of her eyes wearily. A faint flicker of a smile spread across her lips as she saw Isda approaching. The expression on her sister's face, however, troubled her so.

Still silently, Serena unbolted the stall door and nonchalantly shoved Isda inside before locking it up again. The two angels waited patiently until Serena's footsteps diminished as she left the barn once more. Serena pulled Isda into a warm embrace, tucking a few loose strands of hair from her sibling's face before continuing on. "Isda, sister, what has happened? What troubles you?" she asked desperately.

Isda opened her mouth as though to speak, but instead covered her mouth with her hand as tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. She had to clear her throat and wait a moment before daring to at least try and convey the message that she understood to be true. Using her sign language symbols, she communicated urgently with Cathetel—_I overheard the two humans speaking. Castiel is in danger._

Cathetel's eyes widened in surprise. "You can't be serious," she gaped. Isda nodded solemnly that indeed she was, and that she was terrified for their brother. "We have to get out of here, all of us," she murmured quietly.

Serena, meanwhile, shut the door to Nathan's office quietly as she re-entered. Nathan quickly arose from his seat where he'd been dazedly looking over a magazine. "Serena, just tell me what the Hell is going on," he demanded wearily.

"Don't you see?" Serena asked incredulously, "Castiel pulled Dean Winchester from Hell, he's here!"

Nathan paused simply to look at her. "He's not that newbie, is he?"

"Yes!" Serena exclaimed, "Yes! I was talking to him the other day. God, how could I have missed that?"

Nathan snickered then, coming to wrap Serena close in his arms. "Oh, this is so great," he murmured, planting a light kiss atop her head, "Maybe at least one of us can get some redemption." Serena nodded silently, content to wrap her arms around his waist and just let all the warmth sink in.

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Dean slammed the door to their cabin, watching as Sam emerged from the bathroom with a frothy toothbrush sticking halfway out of his mouth. "Hey," the younger hunter said through a mouthful of suds. Dean said nothing in response, simply pacing the floor with his hands plastered angrily upon his hips. Sam quickly disappeared back into the depths of the bathroom, emerging once he'd rinsed his mouth out with some water. "Dean," he said, coming to his brother's side, "What's going on man?"

"They have Cas," Dean said simply as continued his vigorous strides back and forth across the room.

"What?" Sam gasped in surprise, "Wait, how do you know?"

"I was just talking with the freaking Nate guy!" Dean exclaimed.

Sam frowned, "And he just told you right out?"

"No, not right out but they're hiding something. I just know it. That other chick, she wanted to know who pulled me out of the uh pit so I told them," the hunter continued, rubbing a hand over his forehead in exasperation.

Sam took a seat on one of the nearby beds, "I thought something felt off about this place."

"Yeah, tell me about it," Dean scoffed.

Sam furrowed his brow, resting his chin thoughtfully upon his hands. "So what are we gonna do?" the younger hunter asked curiously.

"Well Nathan wants us outta here," Dean sighed grimly.

"We can't just leave Cas though," Sam shook his head.

"You don't think I know that?" Dean hissed, his voice coming out a bit harsher than he had originally intended.

Sam looked slightly taken aback, "Dean, seriously man, what's been up with you lately? You're on edge all the time, it's not you. And you can't keep pretending nothing's wrong."

"What?" Dean denied, "I'm not pretending anything.

"Cut the crap Dean, I can see right through your act," Sam insisted.

Dean broke eye contact with his brother at that, turning away in which to collect his own thoughts. He'd never meant for things to take the direction they had with Castiel it just sort of, well, happened. Not that the hunter regretted a moment of it, because he didn't, but his mind was just running wild with all the reasons someone would want to trap an angel. Letting out a deep sigh, Dean turned back to face Sam his hands wrenching with complete and total nervousness. "Cas and I," he began hesitantly, "We uh, got closer recently."

"Closer?" Sam echoed.

"Yeah, you know," Dean tried to explain without going into too much detail, "Closer."

A wave of realization washed over Sam's face. "Oh, _closer_," he whispered, "Dean, why didn't you just tell me before?"

Dean shook his head, "I dunno, I mean what was I suppose to say? Hey there Sammy, yeah I'm gay with an angel by the way. Just thought I'd let you know."

Sam couldn't help but chuckle slightly at that. "Dean," he cleared his throat, "You do know angels don't really have a gender right?"

"I get that, but Cas is well kind of a dude anyway now that he's alone in Jimmy's body and all," Dean replied faintly sheepish.

Sam just threw his brother a dopey smile, "Whatever, man. You know it doesn't matter to me who you're with, just as long as they make you happy."

Dean smiled faintly at Sam, placing a hand lightly on the younger hunter's shoulder. "Thanks Sammy," he said in a low voice.

"Yeah," Sam nodded, "So uh, you guys do it yet?"

"Dude!" Dean shouted immediately taking his hand from his brother's shoulder and stepping away.

"Sorry, just wondering," Sam muttered.

"Forget it, moment's gone," Dean shook his head.

Sam just laughed lightly, watching as Dean turned an ever so bright shade of pink especially around his ears. "Anyway," he said, breaking the awkwardness, "What are we gonna do about Cas?"

Dean paused, his expression reading deep thought. "I hate to do this to my baby but," he muttered under his breath, clearing his throat, "I could uh, do some screwing the Impala."

Sam's jaw dropped incredulously. "Are you serious? Man," his voice trailed off in surprise.

"I know, I know," Dean waved a hand in frustration, "But it's the only excuse that'll buy us some time."

Opening his mouth as though to speak, Sam was quickly cut off by a persistent rapping at the door. The two brothers exchanged a hesitant glance before Dean made for the entranceway. Pulling back the door ever slightly, Lucas was revealed to be standing on the small stone just outside. "Hey there Dean," he said cheerfully, not even waiting for the hunter to welcome him in before stepping inside, "Sam."

The younger hunter nodded his hello, waiting for Dean to carry this one out. While he was out _working_ on the Impala, Sam could easily track down where they were keeping Castiel and hopefully cut him loose. "What's up Luke?" Dean asked nonchalantly.

"Well, we think we've got your tire all fixed up on the Chevy," he announced proudly.

Dean furrowed his brow somewhat, "We?"

"Yeah Nathan and me," Lucas nodded enthusiastically. Dean gritted his teeth, trying desperately not to show his frustration—he didn't like anyone touching his baby let alone that son of a bitch, Nathan. Seemingly not to catch Dean's wave of anger, the other man continued, "What'aya say you fellas come down and take a look at it, make sure everything's up and running before you get underway?" He looked over at Sam expectantly.

"You know what, uh Sam really isn't much of a mechanic," Dean stalled, "Hell, he wouldn't even know brake pads if you smacked him in the face with'em." Lucas and Dean shared a chuckle at that, Sam growing a minor bitchface for the time being.

"I think I'll just get the bags ready," he muttered lightly.

"Aww come on, don't take it to heart son," Lucas urged.

"I was actually hoping to catch a quick walk though," Sam interjected, "If you don't mind."

Lucas looked slightly taken aback, like in his mind he thought that wasn't such a good idea, but plastered on a smile anyway. "Yeah, uh sure. Go right ahead," he replied, rubbing his hands together in a somewhat awkward fashion.

"Big nature freak, this guy," Dean said pointing at his brother, Sam throwing him a glare from where he was slipping his shoes on.

"A tree hugger huh?" Lucas taunted, "Ah well, guess that leave us to the men's work. Come on." Lightly elbowing Dean, Lucas made for the door again with the hunter following just behind him.

Sam let out a light, humiliated sigh watching out the window as those two walked down the gravel path towards the gate where they entered. He waited until they were just out of sight before stepping outside and down another path further away from the encampment.

As Dean and Lucas reached the garage where they were keeping the Impala, Dean silently contemplated what he could do subtly to temporarily disable the car. After all, he wanted them to be able to get out of here easily need be so he couldn't cause any major issues with her. Looking her over, the hunter complimented Lucas on his work even though Dean was sure he, himself could've done better. And, of course, that bastard Nathan was nowhere to be found—typical ass-hat.

"Mind if I give her a rev?" Dean asked, a plot quickly formulating in his mind.

"She's your car," Lucas chuckled sarcastically.

Dean took a few steps over to the driver's door, thankful as he saw Serena enter the garage in which to discuss something with Lucas in one of the far corners. He paid no mind to how she purposefully avoided eye contact with him, the hunter just thankful that he had a moment alone to do his dirty work.

Slipping into the driver's seat, Dean made quick work of the plastic panels surrounding the ignition careful to pull them off gently as to minimize damage. Then, whipping his pocket knife out of his jacket, the hunter took a deep breath before putting the tiniest of slits in the both the battery as well as the starter wires. He knew that was probably going to cost a Hell and a half to fix, but he supposed it would all be worth it in the end. Glancing up cautiously from the dashboard, Dean made sure to be discreet as he replaced the plastic around the steering column and proceeded to slip his key into the ignition.

Knowing full-well that his baby wouldn't start by now, Dean didn't even bother turning the key hard—just enough to attract Lucas and Serena's attention. Serena was the first one to speak, making for the car with Lucas following behind her. "What's the problem?" she asked a commanding tone to her voice.

"Dunno," Dean replied simply, making a face as he tried to rev her again, "She's not starting right."

"Here, let me have a look," Lucas offered, swapping seats with Dean. He tried once, then twice with still no improved results. "That's weird," he said coming out of the driver's seat and handing the keys to Dean.

"You're telling me," Dean scratched his head staring at the Impala in false wonder.

Out of the corner of his eye, Dean could see Serena glaring at him intently. She folded her arms over her chest with an über bitchface expression plastered on her brow. "Well you heard what Nathan said," she muttered in a prissy tone, "You and your brother can't stay here."

"Serena chill," Lucas defended, "Where are they supposed to go?"

"Yeah, really," Dean coughed sarcastically under his breath.

Serena took a step forward as though she were about to threaten the hunter when Lucas abruptly cut her off, "Now c'mon, what kind of people would we be if we just dumped them out in the middle of nowhere?"

That shut Serena up real quick, but she continued to grit her teeth in displeasure while staring at Dean. "_Fine_," she murmured in defeat, "I'll go talk to Nathan then, see what he says."

Dean nodded, a pissed grin spreading on his face, "Really appreciate it, thanks." Serena didn't even bother to look back at him, but Dean could clearly read the huge _Fuck You_ plastered on her back.

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Katelyn had been sent to fetch that smart-ass angel, Cathetel. From what Nathan had told her, this feathered pinhead had quite the attitude—never speaking English if she could avoid it, even daring to spit in Nathan's face. Katelyn was glad that the brat would finally be taught a lesson respect, though that was probably at the bottom of the list in things she needed. If she could have her way, Katelyn would likely beat this Cathetel off her high horse before handing her over to Nathan. But, he'd requested she be delivered unharmed and so Katelyn would do as she was told.

Approaching the barn however, Katelyn felt as though she were being watched and glanced around nervously. Unknown to her, Sam Winchester sat nestled in the bushes just beyond, observing carefully as Katelyn slipped her large iron key into the padlock securing the barn doors. Katelyn gave one last cautious glance before finally slipping inside the door's wooden frame and shutting it tightly behind her.

Cathetel arose quickly from her place on the floor beside Isda, eyeing Katelyn wearily as the girl approached their stall. "Calm down," Katelyn muttered, "I'm here for you this time, not your friend." She nodded in Isda's direction, indicating that she would taking Cathetel instead.

Isda and Cathetel exchanged a knowing glance, Cathetel clearing her throat before daring to speak, "Could you at least untie me? These ropes are beginning to rub."

Katelyn raised her eyebrows in surprise, "So you can speak English? Way to be a defiant bitch much?" With that the young woman unlocked the stall door, stepping inside just enough to whip a pocket knife from her jeans and lightly drag the blade over Cathetel's ropes.

Cathetel watched as the braided rope fell from her wrists and onto the floor, willingly allowing Katelyn guide her out of the stall. "Oh, I think that's the least of your concerns," Cathetel murmured quietly.

"Oh yeah," Katelyn paused, glaring the angel down fiercely, "And what's that supposed to mean exactly."

Cathetel leaned in slightly closer, watching Katelyn flinch somewhat but not back away. Then, lifting her hand ever so slowly, Cathetel placed her fingers lightly against Katelyn's cheek in which to caress the delicate skin. Katelyn breathed in deeply before closing her eyes out of instinct—it was obvious the time that had passed since she'd been touched so comfortingly. And that's when Cathetel struck.

Ripping the pocket knife from its place in Katelyn's still clenched hand, the angel wasted no time flicking it open before plunging its blade into the side of Katelyn's throat. Cathetel then helped to reinforce the young woman against herself, using her other hand to muffle Katelyn's gurgling screams. "Be at peace," the angel whispered delicately before, with one swift motion, she grasped Katelyn's jaw line and snapped the young woman's neck.

From the stall where Isda stood, she couldn't help but shield her eyes as she heard the loud snap of Katelyn's bones. Turning her head then, she watched as Cathetel gently lowered the woman's body to the ground, placing Katelyn's arms over her torso in a final resting stance. "I know," Cathetel said, standing, "The stabbing perhaps wasn't quite necessary, but even so."

Isda just shook her head, feeling the strangest of guilt flood over her for the killing of own of their Father's children. But then again these people did not entirely recognize neither the Father, nor His messengers, and so she supposed it was an equal trade off. One sacrifice for the lives of many, as she'd heard somewhere along the line. Isda opened the gate in which to proceed, when suddenly Cathetel appeared by her side setting a hand gently upon her sister's wrist.

"No Isda," Cathetel shook her head as though to answer her sister's questioning look, "You must stay here, in case—in case something were to happen."

Isda shook her head, desperately wishing to go but still Cathetel persisted as she shut the gate tightly to the stall behind her. Simply handing the key to her sister, Cathetel said nothing further as she took long strides to the end of the barn. Once there she opened the door but a small slit, peeking out in precaution before finally stepping forth into the outside world.

From his position still nestled in the bushes, Sam frowned watching this new woman appear. He did not know what had happened to the previous lady who had entered but realized that this meant they were keeping people in these barns—whether it was against their will or not though, he did not know. Still, watching this woman ever so cautiously make her way around the many stone buildings that littered the community, Sam couldn't help but get a suspicious feeling in his stomach. Checking his own surroundings, the hunter made sure no one was watching as he, himself arose from the brush and made for the barn just up the slope.

Cathetel, meanwhile, crept along ever so carefully down the gravel path as she approached Nathan's office. She had to be sure that no one saw her otherwise this entire scheme would've all been in vain. Inhaling deeply, Cathetel took a moment to collect herself as she stood outside the small building. Then, tapping upon the doorframe she waited to be granted entrance.

"Come," she heard Nathan call from within.

Conjuring as much courage as she could muster Cathetel stepped forward and opened the door, making sure to conceal the pocket knife carefully within the back pocket of her pants. As she entered into the room, Cathetel falsely stumbled on purpose as though to make it look like she was pushed from the outside. Nathan smiled at this—he was taking the bait.

"Well, well, well," he muttered, his voice deep and lustful, "Don't look so tough now do you?"

Cathetel kept her eyes focused anywhere on him, fidgeting awkwardly with her fingernails as he approached her position. Deep within her chest, however, her heart raced fast which wasn't entirely an act as she might've hoped. Nathan seemed to have no problem quickly invading her personal space though, as she could now feel his steaming breath misting lightly on her face. "What are you planning to do with me?" she asked, her voice dim.

A sick half-grin spread across Nathan's face, his eyes looking her over from head to toe. "Well that's up to you," he retorted, "What do you think I should do?"

Cathetel chose her next words warily, for it could determine her future outcome indefinitely. "You could try this," she murmured delicately, bringing her hands to caress either side of his face, their lips barely grazing one another.

With a rapid twist of his head, Nathan was sucking on her bottom lip prodding his tongue against her mouth in a desperate hurry. Even as she allowed him to explore along her own tongue and teeth Cathetel felt a disgusted rush emulating through her. This hadn't originally been part of her plan to start out with, but at this point the angel was prepared to use whatever methods necessary to achieve freedom. Even if it meant marring her pride.

Pulling away suddenly, Cathetel gazed into Nathan's eyes watching as they lit up with true surprise. "You're certainly a little fire cracker, aren't ya?" he gasped pleasantly.

"Oh you have no idea," Cathetel combated, leaning in to plant a few more sloppy kisses upon the man's lips.

Nathan snickered, "How long you had this tucked away, huh?" On that note he dove in to suck the delicate skin upon her neck before reaching down to squeeze her ass cheek. He paused suddenly, feeling a strange object protruding from the material of her pocket.

"What is it?" Cathetel asked in attempts to distract him, grasping his hands in her own.

But even that was a mistake—for Nathan caught sight of the light blood speckles which Cathetel hadn't realized decorated her hand. Forcefully he shoved her aside, Cathetel crashing into a nearby coffee table before hitting the floor. Within an instant, however, the angel was on her feet again drawing the pocket knife out ready to fight.

Catching sight of the initials engraved on the handle of the knife, Nathan's eyes widened. "Where's Katelyn?" he demanded, "What have you done with her?"

Cathetel grinned in spite of herself, feeling a hate so passionate rising from deep within. "So that was her name," she thought aloud, aimlessly stalling, "I had always wondered."

"You bitch!" Nathan hollered, drawing his own blade from a place unknown. Cathetel ducked sharply as he came at her, realizing his weapon was likely constructed of the same material her own brethren carried for defense. "What the Hell did you do to her?"

"I killed your little minion," Cathetel responded, her voice dripping with a dark venom that even she didn't realize she possessed.

This caused Nathan to go into some kind of violent frenzy, diving and swiping at the angel at every given opportunity. His blade came close to gashing her more than once, but thankfully Cathetel's age made her very good at defending herself. Time and time against she twisted and curved out of his path but eventually she could feel the physical combat beginning to wear her down. After all, the bracelet branded onto her arm certainly didn't help keeping her weak and from properly fighting back.

The angel knew deep down that it was ultimately bound to happen, but it didn't help to ease the pain what so ever once the blade actually punctured her skin. Cathetel screamed out in pain as Nathan happened to graze his weapon across her side, a light streak of crimson instantly beginning to soak through the fabric. Cathetel dropped to the ground, kneeling as she clutched her side and heaved for breath. She glanced up, seeing the man standing over here in triumph but she just couldn't have it. Letting out a fierce scream, Cathetel arose to her feet once more lunging at Nathan with all her willpower. She managed to slice his arm but not before he spun around only to plunge the whole blade into her upper thigh.

Cathetel growled fiercely as such an immense pain wracked her body. Repositioning herself, she attempted to turn over but not before Nathan planted his foot firmly into the middle of her back. "Stay down," he muttered viciously, pressing even harder making it difficult for her to breathe. Then, with one swift chop to her neck, the world fell black to the angel.

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Ecanus and Castiel made their way back to the barn from the lumber yard. It was the first time they had been allowed to walk by themselves since Castiel had arrived at the encampment—they had to pass through the center of the town in order to get there, thus the lumber master didn't consider an escort entirely necessary. Besides, it's not like they could really escape anyhow, what will the bracelets and all.

There hadn't been much conversation passing between the two, and so the silence was all but deafening every minute detail standing out with sharp clarity. And that's when it caught Castiel's attention—Cathetel was in trouble.

"What is it?" Ecanus asked, noticing Castiel's sudden look of panic.

"Cathetel," Castiel replied simply.

Ecanus frowned, "What about h—"

"Quiet," Castiel commanding, gesturing for them both to move forward along the side of a small stone building.

In the back of the building, unknown to them Nathan's office, was a rectangular courtyard. A wooden trellis fence lined its edges, but it was only about waist high and therefore the angels could see over it with ease. Both Ecanus and Castiel were completely shocked to see Cathetel tied to some kind of lone pole towards the far end of the yard. Her head hung low, Castiel unable to distinguish whether their sister was dead or alive at this point.

Pulling them both low, Ecanus helped to hide them both out of view as Nathan walked past and towards Cathetel's position upon the pole. The man took a glass of what was presumably ice water that he held in one of his hands and carelessly splashed it upon Cathetel's unconscious body in which to revive her. The angel sputtered and gasped for a moment before regaining an awareness of where in fact she was.

"You messed up big time," Nathan said simply, "Did you honestly think you could escape?"

Cathetel glared daggers at the man standing before her, leaning forward despite the pain that surged through her, "Maybe not. But I would've taken just as much pleasure in killing you."

Nathan tilted his head at her in mock question, his expression caught somewhere between humor and sarcastic-fury. "You know, I though angels were supposed to bow down before man? What happened to being righteous, hmm?" Nathan asked, his voice full of contempt.

"_The fear of the Lord is hatred of evil. Pride and arrogance and the way of evil and perverted speech I hate,_" Cathetel quoted fiercely, narrowing her eyes, "The kingdom of Heaven has no place for you Nathan, a man who sins and will not repent."

Nathan chuckled grimly, seeming to turn away from her before pulling his blade once more from his jacket before plunging it into Cathetel's stomach bitterly. Leaning in close, he retorted with a gravely whisper, "_Better to reign in Hell, than serve in Heaven_." With that, Nathan twisted his knife amidst her torso watching as the glowing angelic light burst from her eyes and then quickly faded. The woman who had been Cathetel's vessel was gone as well, her now lifeless head slumping downward as though in defeat.

Castiel arose from his place upon the ground, screaming out pained cries at the loss of his sister. "No!" he shrieked, feeling Ecanus's hands upon him.

"Castiel no, come!" the other angel urged, watching in terror as Nathan also pulled a gun from within his jacket, "Castiel, we must go! NOW!" Reluctantly Castiel turned away, just as a bullet was fired. Thankfully it had missed them both, Nathan not even bothering to fire again as he watched the two run off in the direction of one of the barns.

Dean Winchester, meanwhile, who still stood in the garage heard the shot from afar causing his head to perk up in immense interest. "What was that?" he asked fiercely.

Lucas swallowed hard, "It's probably nothing."

"Bullshit," Dean spat, "Sounded just like a freaking gunshot."

Lucas quickly ran after the hunter as he saw Dean making for the garage exit. "Dean wait!" he called, "Dean please, it's none of your business."

"The Hell it isn't!" Dean hollered vigorously, turning to face the man who stood just behind him. He looked as though he might grab Nathan by the shirt and wring the living daylights out of him, but still the hunter refused.

"Dean look man, listen to me—"

"No, you listen to me," Dean ordered, getting right up into Lucas's personal space, "Now I dunno what freaking trick you people are trying to pull here but I, well, I love Cas. He's my best friend and there's no way I'm gonna leave here without him. So get over your damn secrets already, I'm tired of playing this game."

Lucas let out a deep sigh, watching as Dean turned away once more as though to take on the whole encampment itself. "I'm sorry," he muttered, shaking his head as he suddenly pulled a taser gun. Dean glanced over his shoulder, eyes widening as he saw Lucas aiming straight for him. Within a matter of seconds, the gun had been fired and Dean could feel the overpowering shock flowing over him.

Sam Winchester, too, had heard the gunshot but decided that he was better off paying it little mind as he opened the door to the barn and ever so slowly slipped inside. At first, much to his amazement, he saw nothing—nothing but two long rows of empty horse stalls separated by a lengthy aisle. But within a matter of moments there came a soft rustling followed by the rising of a young woman.

Isda looked about as stunned to see Sam as he was her, but said nothing as they both continued to simply stare at each other. "Um, hi," Sam began hesitantly, taking a few steps forward, "I'm uh, my name's Sam."

Isda nodded as though she recognized him, the faintest of smiles tugging at her lips. That smile quickly faded, however, to devastated shock. Her eyes widened, a light gasp escaping her lips as she desperately pointed for the young hunter to look behind him. Sam did as he was directed, completely taken aback to find Serena standing just behind him.

"What are you doing here Sam?" she asked, her voice low and threatening.

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**A/N: **So yes, I hope that you've enjoyed where I have taken the direction of the story with this chapter. Sorry that, once again, it has been such a long time since I updated. Though I do hope that such a stuffed part to the story makes up for it haha.

In the mean time, thanks to everyone who keeps on faithfully reading. I really do appreciate it =)


	7. In The Shape of Things to Come

**Disclaimer: **All materials belong to their respectful owners. Any and all of the following written is completely, one-hundred percent, fan-written and I claim no profit for it what so ever.

**Author's Note: **Hello all! My apologies, I was hoping to have this chapter out a bit sooner (say, the beginning of the week) but I had an injury complication with my arm so that made a good use of slowing up my writing progress haha.

Anyhow though, I hope that this chapter is pleasing for you. I must warn you ahead of time though, the cursing as well as violence is a bit amped up this time around. Also, at one point Nathan does make some non-consensual moves on Castiel towards the mid-end of this chapter. But, please don't be offended—he doesn't actually do anything, I just wouldn't allow that to happen.

So yeah, nothing too terrible, but I just thought you should be aware. Anyhow, happy reading and enjoy!

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**In The Shape Of Things To Come**

Sam swallowed hard, taking a hesitant step back away from Serena. "These are angels you're keeping here, aren't they?" the young hunter said matter of factly.

"Well aren't you just a little know-it-all?" Serena glared Sam down as she continued to advance forward, "You know, if you and your brother would've just stopped digging into matters that have absolutely nothing to do with you, chances are you wouldn't even be in this mess."

Sam gaped at the woman who now stood but a mere few feet before him. "Nothing to do with us? Castiel is our friend! And we're not just gonna let you keep angels penned up here like cattle!" Sam shouted incredulously.

Serena looked as though she were about to speak, when suddenly the barn doors burst open from behind her. She whipped around fiercely, pulling two revolver pistols from within her jacket and promptly aiming them at the intruders.

Sam's jaw nearly dropped as he caught sight of a very rugged Castiel, who stood beside another angel the hunter was not familiar with. "Sam," Castiel said in surprise, urging forward.

Ecanus firmly placed a hand upon his brother's shoulder as Serena's grip tightened on the trigger of one of her guns. Castiel instantly paused in his footing, ready to listen quite intently to whatever it was this woman had to say. "Let's not do anything hasty now," Serena glanced around her, ready to shoot anyone who dare move, "These here bullets are quite capable of killing an angel, thanks very much. One swift move, and it's all over."

Sam looked completely awed, "A gun that kills angels? But how?"

Serena snickered somewhat, "What? You don't believe me?"

Before Sam even had a chance to answer though, Serena was already pulling the trigger aiming directly for Castiel. Thankfully she hadn't meant to kill him—shooting the angel square in the knee, however, everyone watched as Castiel came crashing down onto the floor below.

The young hunter lunged forward in which to aid his fellow comrade, not entirely surprised when Serena turned her guns on him. "Don't you doubt for a second these bullets won't kill a man just as well," she said coldly.

"We're not killing anyone," a voice echoed from the barn entrance unexpectedly.

All eyes turned to see Lucas standing in the archway, shotgun in hand. "I've got the other one tied up in the lodge," he nodded almost casually in Sam's direction.

For a moment no one spoke, an anxious sort of tension building thickly in the air around them. Finally, as though she'd been debating, Serena cleared her throat, "Alright, take him." With that, she grasped Sam's forearm and lead him to the front of the barn.

Sam glanced over his shoulder at Castiel who was being ushered by his brethren towards the stall the other angel woman had been standing in. "What about Cas?" the hunter asked suddenly.

Serena paused, looking at the group of angels all huddled together in near disgust. "They're angels," she frowned simply, "I'm sure they'll figure something out."

Lucas called from the aisle of the barn, "And Katelyn?"

Sam caught sight of the dead woman's body resting peacefully amidst the hay-littered floor, feeling his heart wrench in pity for the loss of life. "I suppose we could take her to the cemetery, prepare a grave for her," Serena murmured, her voice grim.

Lucas nodded at Ecanus who stood nearby. "You," he commanded, "Help me with the body." Ecanus did as he was told, silently moving forward in which to assist the man in moving the dead woman's body out of the barn.

Isda helped to support Castiel, the two watching as Serena then tightly secured the door before carting Sam off to where ever his brother was being held. Almost as soon as all had gone, Isda gently lowered Castiel onto the floor of the stall. The angel let out a light yelp of pain as his leg was bent, watching as a fresh stream of blood began to pour from the wound.

Isda set to work quickly, careful in her movements as she began to roll up his pant leg. Castiel just watched her for a moment, unsure if he had the heart to tell her of Cathetel's death. He thought for sure that Isda would've felt the loss immediately, but apparently not. Still, she seemed to sense something troubling him, and so she paused from her work in which to glance up at him.

"Sister," Castiel began hesitantly, finding his throat tight at the sudden swell of emotion rising within him.

Isda frowned, looking at him curiously as though to say, _What's the matter?_

Castiel swallowed hard, taking her hand in his own as he tried his hardest to speak once more. "It's Cathetel," he murmured so tenderly, feeling fear rise in his chest as Isda's eyes widened in horror, "Nathan has slain her." It seemed like such a casual term, slaying someone. But honestly Castiel just couldn't think of a better way to phrase such matters—as difficult as it was, over thinking the situation would surely just make it worse. Feeling Isda begin to convulse rapidly however, the angel was drawn back to a sudden reality. "Isda!"

His sister fell to the ground beside him, her body jolting and shaking uncontrollably. He could see her eyes rolling white back into her skulls, fresh tears streaming down her face at the sudden news—it must've been too much for her. Above the stall just across from them one of the lights blew with a loud bang. Castiel crawled over to Isda, unsure if there was anything he could truly do to help. Placing his hands firmly upon his shoulders, he tried his best to steady her but it was no use. Grunting somewhat from the effort, Castiel managed to sit her upright, pushing lightly into one of the corners of the stall in attempt to keep her from jerking too much.

Throwing her head up towards the sky, a massive scream erupted from Isda's lips. Castiel was taken off guard at first, for it was the first time he'd heard her vessel's voice instead of just Isda's true grace-lined speech. He could feel the muscles in her arms tightening beneath her grasp and then, suddenly, all was still.

Isda's head slumped down, her whole body feeling loose as she involuntarily fell forward onto him. Castiel steadied her with his hand, holding his palm in the middle of her chest to keep her propped upward. "Isda?" he murmured, his voice barely grazing a whisper as he leaned in close to her face.

He could rapid breaths coming from her, Isda's eyes closed even so. As desperate as she was to keep breathing though, Castiel could feel her heart rate slowing beneath his touch and within moments she'd gone cold. Castiel had to push away at that, the warmth of fresh tears overwhelming his eyes. Amazing how far he'd come—not that long ago he was unsure what it was like to feel such a human emotion, and now he couldn't stop it as his throat became tight with loss.

Shifting backwards somewhat from Isda's statue-like body, Castiel fidgeted idly with his hands desperate to just have his nerves respond to _something_. And suddenly, like a grenade had exploded right beside him, the angel was thrown to the other side of the stall. Daring to glance up from his new position, Castiel caught sight of a bright light emulating from Isda's body. Her head was still slumped downward, but glistening rays spilled out like an aura all around her. Much to his amazement, a golden beam of light then poured down upon the stall the sound of the Host singing like a delightful chorus. It had been so long since Castiel had heard their sweet melody, he was truly awed.

But, just as quickly as the light had come, it was gone with another vast and rushing explosion. This time Castiel shielded his eyes, weary of the brightness that seemed it might fry his retinas if he stared too long. Blinking, Cas attempted to readjust himself to the dimness which always seemed to loom over the barn drearily. Then, unexpectedly, he saw Isda standing before him a bright and charming smile spread across her lips. In fact, that was probably the happiest Castiel had ever seen her since arriving in this God-forsaken encampment. "Isda," he murmured breathlessly.

"Hello Castiel," she said, her voice warm as she extended a hand to her brother.

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Serena opened the door to the lodge, roughly escorting Sam inside before tightly bolting the entrance behind her. The young hunter looked around, trying to gain at least some kind of familiarity with his surroundings—the ceiling was at least two stories up, thick wooden rafters crossing lengthwise in the space above. Towards the heart of the room a great dining table was placed, bearing many seats all around with a wonderful fruit centerpiece. To the left were two large staircases against opposite walls of the room, leading to a shadowed place that Sam couldn't quite make out. But what really caught the hunter's eye was the fire blazing in the mighty fireplace in the center of the wall between the staircases—more importantly, his brother who was seated nearby.

"Dean!" Sam shouted, ignoring a frustrated sigh from Serena as he bolted towards his brother's location. Dean was restrained tightly to what appeared to be a leather chair, partially unconscious. He was coming awake though as Sam continued to shake him lightly. "Dean man, you okay?"

The older hunter blinked vigorously glancing all around. Testing the restraints ever so slightly, Dean realized that they were indeed handcuffs and let out a deep sigh. "Peachy," he muttered sarcastically.

Sam turned as he heard Serena's footsteps behind them. "Un-cuff him," Sam almost ordered, completely ignoring the hostile position they faced right now.

Serena just let out a deviant chuckle, "Right. What, so you two can just snoop around and find away to escape? No, I don't think so. Have a seat."

The younger hunter opened his mouth about to speak, when suddenly Nathan's voice echoed from the right staircase. "No, that won't be necessary," he declared, "The only way in or out is through that door, after all."

Dean clicked his tongue in retaliation, "Well then, why don't you let us go? Huh, get us outta your hair?"

"Ah yes, very funny Dean. But like I told you before, I know you're smart. And quite frankly, I'm not that dumb to just let you two go," Nathan said, his voice low as he leaned in close to wear Dean was sitting.

"Could've fooled me," Dean grumbled under his breath as Nathan turned his back.

"I can't let you go _now_ anyway," the man continued, obviously unaware of Dean's lack of enthusiasm toward him.

Sam and Dean exchanged a hesitant glance, Sam stepping forward ever slowly. "What is it you want?" he asked curiously.

"Honestly, at this point, I couldn't say," Nathan sighed wearily running a hand through his hair, "Such a sticky situation you boys have gotten yourself into here."

Dean cleared his throat, "You know, this chat's been real great and all, but uh if we're gonna keep peeing around the bush could you at least un-cuff me?"

Serena looked towards Nathan who nodded his approval. Stepping forth she drove the small silver key into the slot on the cuffs and promptly removed them from Dean's wrists, ultimately freeing him from the chair. Dean wasted no time—jumping up from his position he wrapped Serena in a tight headlock, pulling a small dagger from the back of his pants with his free hand.

"Dean, what the Hell are you doing?" Sam shouted incredulously.

While his brother looked horrified, Nathan simply smiled tucking his hands into his pockets as though he were watching a television show nothing more. "Go ahead," he taunted, "But I warn you, it won't help to get your angel back."

Dean's face fell at that, his eyes glistening with a new fear for Castiel. "What?" he hissed sharply, his voice a low growl of fury.

"Dean, what's he talking about?" Sam urged, completely lost in what had just transpired.

Nathan's eyes widened almost with delight. "Oh my, you haven't told him yet?" the man played the words so cunningly, "Yes Dean, what could we possibly be talking about?"

"Nathan," Serena pleaded from a muffled grasp.

"You won't kill her. Not out of spite," Nathan said simply, knowing all along that Dean's plan was faulty from the start.

Dean's jaw tightened as he released Serena from his grasp and shoved her forward at Nathan. The man caught her gently, checking to make sure she was alright as she coughed. "I'm as lost as Sam apparently," she cleared her throat, "What the Hell's going on?"

Nathan and Dean exchanged astute glance, the hunter knowing full what he couldn't stop Nate from saying whatever he was about to. "Dean here's got himself a little boyfriend, one with wings," Nathan beamed wickedly.

For a moment no one spoke, but Dean didn't deny the claim either. He and Cas had never been exclusive, never laid out any boundaries, but Dean knew deep down that was the direction it was headed in—and to think, a gesture so simple as holding hands could begin it all.

Serena eyed Dean with near-disgust, Sam just slightly more confused than before. The younger hunter leaned in closer to his brother, keeping his voice low. "I thought you said you guys were close," he muttered. Dean just shot him a look.

"That's just," Serena mumbled hesitantly, "Oh I cannot even conceive of it!"

"Yeah well it's true," Lucas's voice suddenly rang out from the doorway. He was wiping fresh graveyard dirt from his hands with a small cloth.

"Can I get a moment with Sam?" Dean asked suddenly, ignoring all their judgments, "Alone."

"Like that's gonna happen," Serena huffed bitterly.

"Look you guys are calling all the shots here," Sam retorted, "Can't we just get a minute to talk?"

Nathan seemed to debate for a moment, lifting his hand in sudden recognition. "I'll give you five," he smiled sickly sweet. Motioning for Serena to follow him, he then made for the door where Lucas was waiting with it already open. "It'll give me a chance to take care of some other _business_ anyway," Nathan muttered under his breath.

"What does that mean?" Dean called after him, his voice sounding a bit more desperate than he had originally intended. When all Nathan did was chuckle, Dean bolted for the door. But damn, if it wasn't shut in his face. "You dick bag, what does that mean?" he yelled again, still faced with no reply.

On that note, the hunter slammed his fist against the door running his other hand through his hair beginning to pace the floor. "Dean, you gotta tell me what's going on," Sam said, his voice still low.

Dean made a light grumble of a response, coming to stand near the burning embers of the fire. He watched as the flames danced, licking the already blackened edges of the logs piled neatly in its center. It vaguely reminded him of Hell, as if that weren't strange enough, without it reminding him of Castiel too—the way the white curled and twisted at the bottom of the fire itself. Like Castiel's blinding grace invading Dean's dark corner of the pit.

"Come on man," Sam urged coming closer to where his brother stood, "What's going on?"

Dean inhaled deeply. "I love him Sammy," the hunter replied simply. He honestly didn't know how else to say it. Though the look plastered on Sam's face when he turned around wasn't quite what he'd been expecting—Sam was smiling, a freaking grin stretching from ear to ear. "What?"

"I was waiting for you to figure it out," Sam chuckled somewhat.

"What are you talking about? Dean eyed his brother suspiciously.

"Dean," Sam licked his lips beginning hesitantly, "Cas pulled you out Hell. And I mean ever since I met him, since we actually found out he was an angel, there's been something between you two."

Dean simply stood there, frozen in time for an instance, and Sam honestly couldn't tell what his brother was feeling at this point. "Was it really that obvious?" Dean finally cleared his throat, his voice still hoarse even so.

Sam nodded, a delicate smile spread across his face, "I always knew it. Like I said, I was just waiting for you guys to figure it out."

"Yeah, well thanks for the hint there, Sherlock," Dean teased sarcastically.

Sam chuckled in reply, "Think it took you long enough?"

Dean smiled, his joy quickly fading, however, as he glanced towards the floor below. "We gotta help him, Sam," the older hunter muttered quietly, "We have to get out of here."

Serena, meanwhile, followed eagerly along behind Nathan as he trailed up the path towards the barn. "Nathan!" she called to him, "Nathan, what are you gonna do?"

"Wait and see," he commanded simply, continuing to ignore her and stride ahead.

Serena huffed in annoyance, "Ergh, Nathan wait a minute! Stop!" She sprinted in which to catch up with him, grasping his shoulders in attempts to halt his path.

Nathan shrugged her off harshly, turning to face her with anger set deep in his brow. "Stay out of this Serena!" he hollered, "You wanna get your brother back, you leave it to me!"

Serena urged him, "Nathan no, there are other ways. Just let me talk to him."

"Talk to him? Talk to him?" Nathan scoffed in sheer amazement, "Serena, you should know by now that _talking_ won't get you anywhere with these damn angels!"

Still she persisted, "Nathan, I can—"

"No," Nathan murmured coldly, gripping Serena's arm tightly, "My camp, my way. You don't like it, then you better get the Hell out."

This time Serena did not dare to follow Nathan as he continued on his way to the barn, simply watching as he unlocked the doors and step inside. This isn't what she had wanted—she just wanted her brother back, not the mindless torture of others. She understood that angels were liars, not to be trusted, but if there was a more peaceful solution to gaining what she so desired, well then Serena would be willing to try it. Sighing, she turned away leaving Nathan to his _work_.

Ecanus was the first to arise, watching as Nathan dutifully unhinged the door before coming down the aisle towards them. Out of the corner of his eye, Ecanus could see Isda instinctively shudder at the man's presence, stepping further back into the corner by which she already lingered.

Nathan seemed to pay her little mind, however, clearing his throat as he glanced down at Castiel's position upon the floor. "I require Castiel," Nathan said simply, leaning up against the nearby half-wall almost casually.

Ecanus and Isda exchanged a hesitant glance, Ecanus stepping forth ever slight which gained Nathan's attention. "Castiel is injured, sir," Ecanus said in a low voice.

Nathan's expression remained seemingly indifferent despite Ecanus's statement. "Well, go on and help him up then," Nathan ordered as though that were some kind of solution.

Castiel waved his brother away as Ecanus knelt down to assist him. Grunting lightly, Castiel pulled himself up gripping the wall for support. Nathan promptly opened the gate for him, allowing Cas to exit before locking it once more. Then resting one arm upon Castiel's shoulder, the other gently on the small of the angel's back, Nathan escorted him out of the barn in silence.

"Why didn't you do something?" Ecanus hissed at Isda as soon as he was sure they were out of earshot.

"It was not the right time," Isda shook her head, "If Castiel's leg was to just be healed in an instance, they would surely know something isn't right."

"And leaving Castiel injured, alone, to deal with them on his own is going to help matters?" Ecanus challenged sharply.

"I have a plan," Isda murmured quietly, leaning in closer towards her brother.

Ecanus scoffed somewhat doubtfully, "Do you?" Without another word of explanation, Isda opened her palm to reveal not only the key Cathetel had left behind for her, but also Katelyn's entire key ring as well that the angel had somehow managed to snag off the corpse. Ecanus simply stared at her, eyes wide with awe.

Castiel, meanwhile, was in a deep state of confusion as he was led to Nathan's office and not to the lodge as he might've expected. Nathan slammed the door behind them as they entered, tossing his coat aside before cracking his knuckles sharply.

Castiel swallowed hard, glancing around the room curiously, "I don't understa—"

A quick blow to the stomach stopped Castiel's sentence short, the angel stumbling back in surprise. "Shut up," Nathan growled, quickly advancing onto Castiel's position in which to kick the angel onto the floor below, "Just shut_ up_."

Castiel took a moment to catch his breath, before somehow mustering the strength to leap from the floor and drive his fist into the man's face.

And in that moment his bewilderment, anger, sadness—all the emotions which had been building within the angel—rapidly boiled to the surface, the purest of rage flooding over onto Nathan in the utmost powerful strikes. And Castiel felt no shame as he poured out fury relentlessly against this man. In retrospect, it was a just punishment—for all the misery Nathan had laid upon so many others, he certainly had it coming. The angel was not expecting, however, for Nathan to swing his legs around in such a manner that would trip Castiel.

Nathan wasted no time in regaining control, vigorously planting to rough punches to the side of Castiel's jaw watching in a sickening fascination as the angel bled. Not keeping him on the ground for long though, Nathan grasped Castiel firmly by the collar before dragging the angel to his feet and slamming him into a nearby wall. Castiel grunted ever slightly upon impact, feeling his stomach double over in nervous anticipation for what was to come.

Nathan leaned in dangerously close, his breath hot against Castiel's already sweat-slick cheek. "Got some tricks up your sleeve, huh?" Nathan's laughter rumbled deep in his throat dripping with seduction, "What else can you do?" On that note, Nathan slid his hand greedily across Castiel's inner thigh just prior to cupping the angel's crotch within his palm.

Castiel let out a ragged yelp, attempting to jerk away from the man in terrified surprise. Nathan had certainly never considered himself gay, per say, but freelance sex was always good in his opinion—even better when it helped to extract greatly needed information. And so, as Nathan continued to grind up against the helpless angel, he felt no shame as he witnessed the sheer panic alight in Castiel's eyes. Placing a hand firmly over Cas's mouth, the man helped to muffle the angels desperate gasping pleas as he came only mere inches from Castiel's face. "What else can you do?" he muttered, his voice barely grazing a whisper.

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Serena paced the ground just behind the lodge building, her hands wringing with sweat as she kept them firmly clenched behind her back as she walked. She kept her eyes focused solely onto the ground, watching the thin blades of grass bend and break with every footstep. She nearly jumped out of her skin as she heard a voice suddenly ring out in the otherwise tranquil stillness.

"Serena?" Lucas asked suddenly, "What the heck are you doing?"

Looking up to face him, it was clear by the look in her eyes that Serena seemed troubled. Clearing her throat, she prepared to give him some kind of half-assed excuse. "I uh," she hesitated, running a hand absent mindedly through her hair, "I need to speak with the Winchesters."

Lucas furrowed his brow in question, "Is Nathan finished with the angel yet?"

"No but—it's important," Serena insisted.

Lucas let out a sigh, "Okay, go on in. But not a word of this to Nathan, you hear?" Serena nodded her understanding, waiting for him to unlock the doors before stepping forth. "Two minutes," Lucas mumbled behind her.

Both Dean and Sam turned to look at her as she entered—seeing Dean's bloodshot eyes, Serena could imagine he felt about as bad as her at this point. "What the Hell do you want?" Dean sneered.

Sam shot his brother a look, "Dean—"

"No, it's okay," Serena interrupted somewhat awkwardly, "I know I'm about the last person you want to see right now."

"Yeah, no kidding," Dean scoffed.

"Look," Serena let out a deep sigh, "If you'll just hear me out—"

Dean took a bitter step forward, "And why should we even give you the time of day? Huh, I mean what in God's freaking name to you want from us?"

Serena dropped her eyes to the floor in guilt, now fidgeting with her fingernails simply for something to do with her hands. "I know what Nathan's planning to do," she began, voice trembling ever slightly, "To Castiel. And I, I wanna stop it. I have to."

Dean looked as though he were about to speak when Sam cut him off promptly. "Why?" the younger hunter asked.

Serena shot her head up at this, "Because it's not fair. There are thing I want but this—I never meant for it to come to this."

"What do you guys even want Cas for anyway?" Dean questioned, arching his eyebrow.

"He got you out of Hell," Serena hesitated, attempting her best to avoid giving a straight answer.

Dean licked his lips impatiently, "Yeah, we kinda established this already. Quit peeing around the bush and cut to the punch line."

Serena lightly collapsed into one of the nearby chairs, her eyes quickly become red-rimmed as salty tears threatened to spill over the edge. "My brother, Brent, was killed seven years ago. It was a car crash," she murmured, sniffling somewhat, "The past year had been pretty tough for him and he, uh, got into some stuff."

"What stuff?" Sam interjected.

"You know, _stuff_. Mostly just LSD but he did experiment with heroin, I know that," she clarified, embarrassment flushing her cheeks pink, "Anyway, he _was_ trying to get clean. Went to these rehab confidential meetings, you know? But one night, his buddies called him away to the bar and, well, he was never one to put down a good time. He was killed that night though. Speeding. And he wasn't even the one driving!" She pounded her fist angrily onto the arm rest.

Sam swallowed hard, nodding, "That sounds awful."

"Try devastating," Serena wiped her eyes with her shirt, "His body was so bloodied and bruised—I barely even recognized him in the morgue. And he, he was all I had left."

Dean cleared his throat, "Sorry sweet heart but I don't exactly see how we can help. Sounds like his death's been a long time passing."

Serena glared at him ever slightly, but kept her voice as calm as she could. "Castiel could do it. He could bust him out," she declared.

Dean and Sam just looked at each other. "You mean—out of _Hell_?" Sam eyed her, perplexed.

She nodded silently. "What even makes you so sure he's there in the first place?" Dean challenged.

Serena chuckled grimly, "Believe me Dean, you spend every waking day of your life with a person you kinda get to know their beliefs and where they're headed. You of all people should know that. Brent may not have been a saint, but he doesn't deserve Hell."

"Cas is weaker now, you do know that? He's not all super-angel like he used to be," Sam tried to reason with her.

"He's the only angel who I know for sure could do it," Serena retorted sharply.

Dean chuckled incredulously, "Well this ten kinds of crazy, you know that right? Cas could never do this, not now. No freaking way."

Serena folded her arms persistently over her chest, "Well he could at least try."

"What would even be in this for us? Or him for that matter?" Sam negotiated.

"I can get you out," Serena said simply, "All of you. I helped to build this place up, and I sure as Hell can tear it apart."

Sam narrowed his eyes at her, "And you would do that?"

"If I get to have my brother back, yeah," Serena shrugged, "Besides, Nathan's turned this in to his own personal petting zoo. It was meant as a beacon of light, a safe haven for those who've been betrayed by Heaven's supposedly good graces. I never imagined the type of Hell it would become."

"How can we even trust you?" Dean muttered.

Serena breathed out deeply through her nostrils, "Do you want a way out of here, or not?"

Lucas lingered at the door, glancing down at his watch one last time before opening the door yet again. Upon first entering the archway he saw nothing—no Sam, no Dean, and definitely no Serena. "Serena?" he called out into the silence. And suddenly there came a crashing noise. Lucas caught sight of Serena now on the floor, arms tied behind her back. She cried out in her cloth gag. "Serena!" he shouted in surprise quickly running to her aid, "They did this to you?"

But as quickly as he had knelt down to help her, Sam came up from behind him bashing Lucas over the head with a lamp he had taken from one of the end tables. Its ceramic body shattered over the back of the man's head, and within an instant he was out cold on the wooden floor. Dean then came from the other side of Serena and helped to undo her bondages that they had hastily tied together for their plan.

"Go," Serena ordered as soon as her mouth was free, "Nathan's office—he's holding Castiel there." Sam handed Dean Ruby's knife just in case, nodding at his brother to get moving. "And hurry!" Serena shouted as Dean practically sprinted for the doorway.

For the surprisingly large amount of people who inhabited the encampment, Dean found it relatively easy to navigate through the winding gravel paths that led him through building after building. At last upon reaching Nathan's office, the hunter crouched down in which to peer inside one of the nearby windows. He couldn't make out much between the blinds lining the interior, but saw papers scattered all across the floor—a sign of a robbery or, more likely, a struggle between two people. Rounding the side of the building, Dean decided it would be best to go through the back door. Hopefully the element of surprise would prove as an advantage to him, as he had no other plan to be perfectly honest.

Without a moment's hesitation, Dean kicked in the cheap wooden door with his foot, bursting into the room with his blade ready. He was completely blown away though to find Nathan practically suffocating his angel, feeling Castiel up involuntarily all the while. "Hey, asshole!" Dean shouted, rage pulsing through his entire body.

Nathan turned quickly, completely caught off guard by Dean's sudden entrance. Dean charged forward, gripping Nathan by his shirt before throwing him to the ground. The hunter could honestly care less as the man toppled over the coffee table, its weak wooden frame crumbling beneath Nathan's weight. Dean then half straddled the man as he delivered several punches to Nathan's gut. Once he was satisfied that Nathan was gasping for breath, Dean then plucked one of the coffee table legs from the ground and bashed it into Nathan's face repeatedly. Nathan's head came crashing onto the ground with a thud his eyes closed and he became dim and unconscious. Dean couldn't help but snicker to himself as he saw a bleeding welt form just above the man's eyebrow.

And sudden slump from the other side of the room, however, quickly caught the hunter's attention. "Cas," Dean murmured in concern, crouching down beside his angel.

"Dean," Castiel swallowed hard, his eyes looking all around the room in a disorganized flurry, "I didn't think you'd come." Dean leaned in close, cupping Castiel's face tenderly in his hands. Without waiting another moment, the hunter pressed his lips firmly but gently to the angel's pleased as he felt Castiel kiss back with just as much affection. Slowly as ever, the hunter pulled away breathing a deep sigh of relief. "I don't understand, what was that for?"

Dean chuckled, wiping the light layer of sweat that had formed upon his brow. "Are you stupid? I didn't know if I was gonna see you again man," Dean shook his head in mock disappointment.

Castiel smiled faintly, "I missed you too."

Dean cleared his throat, glancing just over his shoulder at where Nathan's body lay limp. "C'mon, we gotta get you out of here. Plenty of time to catch up on the honeymoon," the hunter muttered as he gingerly helped to lift the angel up off the floor, careful to mind Cas's knee.

"We are not engaged to be married, Dean," Castiel frowned.

Dean rolled his eyes, "Cas it's an express—you know what, just never mind."

Neither Castiel nor Dean made any further remarks until they were safely back in front of the lodge where both Serena and Sam were waiting for them. Sam instantly stepped forward upon seeing Castiel's beaten state, helping to take some of the angel's weight off his brother.

"What happened to Nathan?" Serena asked hesitantly.

Dean and Cas exchange a glance, Dean cocking his head to the side somewhat awkwardly, "He'll be watching his eyelids for a little while."

"Same with Lucas," Serena nodded, her voice quiet.

"So where do we go from here?" Sam asked, glancing toward the sky as it was becoming both overcast and dusk.

Serena placed her hands on her hips in thought, "Well, first things first, we gotta get off this territory. The main gate will be guarded, so we'll have to go the back way."

Dean curved his eyebrows up in surprise, "There's a back way outta this Hell hole?"

Serena nodded, ignoring his comment as she continued to explain. "There's a trail, it cuts through the woods just east of here. If we can clear the border there's a safe house nearby that I know of."

"Thought you could just up and leave without us?" a voice suddenly echoed from behind the group.

Serena was about to reach for her gun, when Sam halted her with his free hand. Turning, Ecanus and Isda appeared behind the group. Castiel frowned upon looking at his siblings, "How did you manage to escape?" Isda said nothing, simply holding up Katelyn's key ring proudly. Castiel couldn't help but smile—Cathetel must've had something to do with it. It was good to know her death would not be entirely in vein.

Serena crossed her arms over her chest in irritation, still not completely comfortable with the idea of having so many angels leave the encampment with her. "Oh yeah? And just why do you think we should bring you?" she challenged.

"We want to help," Ecanus replied, stepping forward, "Not to mention that Castiel is my brother. And if he's going to be escorted anywhere by a less than trustworthy human, such as yourself, you'll be sure not to question my motives to assist." By this time, the angel was right up in Serena's face glaring her down with his piercing stare.

Sam quickly intervened, "So this trail you mentioned, how wide is it? Enough for hiking, or possibly a vehicle?"

Serena turned, thankful for an excuse to turn away from the angel. "Should be able to fit a car I think. Expect some scratches from bramble though," she replied.

Dean, Castiel, and Sam all glanced at each other. "Looks like my baby's gonna need some rescuing too," Dean said.

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**A/N: **I thought I should probably tell you guys about this by now, but in case you didn't realize the plot for this particular story will soon be coming to an end. Now I know, it seems a bit short but not to worry—I actually do have a sequel planned out so it's not like this will be the final ending or anything. I would estimate ten, _maybe_ twelve, chapters in total for this story and then I'll be posting an entirely new story for the sequel. I'm not entirely sure what that will be named at this point, but I'll be sure to keep you posted that way you can look for it once all is said and done.

Anyhow, sorry for all my blabbing. Thanks kindly for reading! ^^


	8. Onward

**Disclaimer: **All materials belong to their respectful owners. Any and all of the following written is completely, one-hundred percent, fan-written and I claim no profit for it what so ever.

**Author's Note: **Hello everyone! So yes, it's been a while... actually, it's been a while since I've written much of anything to be honest. But never the less, I think I've found some inspiration again thankfully! And, on an even brighter note, I've had just a thousand ideas swimming around in my head for this story so hopefully I can get them all down in a manner that makes sense haha.

Just as a tiny warning, there is a bit of a racy scene towards the very end of the chapter, but it's nothing explicit. Some half-smut and fluff, great combo hehe ^_^

Okay, so without anything further please enjoy!

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**Onward**

Sam, Dean, and Serena made their way back to the garage as Castiel, Ecanus, and Isda traveled to the far edge of the encampment. Once they were able to sneak around the back of the garage and were inside, it didn't take long for Dean to open his baby back up and hotwire her.

"Seriously?" Serena asked, leaning over the driver's seat from the back of the Impala.

"What?" Dean retorted as he continued to lightly twist the wires together, careful not to jolt himself.

"It's just," Serena hesitated, "You really did all this just to save an angel?"

Dean paused, swallowing hard. "Yeah I would. You know, he's saved our necks plenty of times too."

"More than I count," Sam admitted from the passenger's seat.

Suddenly the revving of the engine could be heard as the car sputtered to life once more. "Okay, now we're in business," Dean muttered, throwing it in reverse. Backing out of the garage, Dean spun the Impala in a semicircle before speeding off in the direction Serena had pointed out earlier.

Ecanus, who was helping to escort Castiel, paused as he heard the roar of the Impala approaching.

"When we stop, you can come and sit in the front with us," Sam called back to Serena as Dean began to pull off the path and slightly into the grass on the side of the road.

"Why?" Serena questioned hesitantly.

Dean interjected, "Cause otherwise it's gonna be cozy quarters there in the back with you and three angels."

"Touché," Serena muttered, opening the door as Dean slowed the Impala to a halt.

Sam then exited the car also, helping the angels into the back seat area. Once all, Sam regained his place beside Dean in the front, Serena shutting the car doo yet again as she slipped in next to Sam.

"Everyone situated back there?" Dean asked, his eyes lingering on the sight of Castiel in the rearview mirror perhaps a moment longer than necessary.

Isda nodded, "I think so."

Serena glared back at the angel, surprised to hear her speak. Dean regained her attention quickly though, "Which way?"

"North through that clearing," she replied pointing straight ahead, "We should make it there not long after dark but we'll have to walk part of the way."

Castiel cleared his throat, "How far will we be walking?" He glanced down at his knee, which had finally ceased in oozing blood.

"At the edge of the property line. I'll let you know when it's coming up. Besides, I'll have to free you at that point too," Serena explained.

"Free them?" Sam frowned in confusion.

"Well yeah. You didn't expect that they'd just be able to wonder right off the land, did you?" Serena continued, "I have to dismember their wrist bands."

"You can just go ahead and do that?" Dean asked incredulously.

"With the right tools and incantation, anyone could do it basically. It's not rocket science," Serena shrugged.

Dean nodded, returning his focus to the path ahead, "Fair enough."

"How are you planning to remove our restraints?" Ecanus questioned, leaning forward ever slightly.

Serena eyed him suspiciously, "All in good time."

"There's a crossroad coming up," Sam announced suddenly, feeling the tension beginning to rise between human and previously-captive angel.

"Thanks for that, Captain Obvious," Dean murmured under his breath, in which he received a deadpan look from Sam.

Serena slouched down in her seat, feeling Ecanus's eyes practically burning holes in her back despite turning away from him. "You wanna go right. At the next one, you'll go left."

Keeping a slow but steady pace, Dean rounded the bend and continued on through the thick mass of birch and oak trees that seemed to be becoming more and more dense as they surged onward. He did as instructed at the next turn, coming to a rusty iron gate shortly thereafter. The gate was surrounded by a chain-link fence running in either direction, topped with swirls of dangerous looking barbed wire.

"What is this, the Shawshank Redemption?" Dean mumbled, looking up towards the top of fence with an unpleasant frown on his face.

"Come on, we walk from here," Serena replied simply.

Sam glanced around, "What about the car?"

"There's a piss-poor excuse for a garage over that way," Serena nodded to the right, "It's made of cinder blocks so it's pretty sturdy despite its appearance."

"Okay, I'll park. You guys go ahead and get out a while," Dean suggested.

Sam nodded silently, following Serena out of the car as the angels began to unload as well. Dean then pulled into the small ramshackle structure, plowing over a few infant bushes in the process. He stepped out, rejoining the group as Serena began to unlock the gate with her massive ring of keys, similar to Katelyn's.

As Serena continued the process of opening the gate, Dean approached Castiel who was leaning on a nearby tree stump. "Hey," Dean said quietly, his voice barely grazing a whisper.

"Hello Dean," Castiel greeted in usual manner—though at this time, his voice sounded hoarse, his appearance disheveled and exhausted.

Dean scratched the back of his head somewhat awkwardly, "So how're you holding up?" The moment he asked though, the hunter realized it was a rather pointless question.

"I think I'm—"

"Gate's unlocked," Serena interrupted, unknowingly, "Do either of you happen to have a lighter on you?"

Sam fished in his pocket, revealing a plain stainless steel lighter. "What do you plan to use it for?" he asked, tossing it over to her.

Walking over towards Ecanus, Serena lifted up the angel's arm and pointed to bracelet still attached firmly to his wrist. "I still need to get rid of these, remember?"

Jerking his arm away, Ecanus glared at her somewhat. "And just how exactly are planning on doing this?" he questioned, though it sounded like more a demand.

"Watch," Serena replied bitterly, her jaw tight with tension.

Ecanus hesitated at first, but eventually leant her his wrist in which to do as she pleased. Flicking the lid of the lighter open, Serena brought the flame up to her eye level before waving her hand over its top in a circular motion. She then began to recite a flowing incantation, which Sam was careful to note as Galician. "Luz, liberdade, paz," Serena spoke softly at first, but gradually grew louder and louder as she repeated the phrase. At last, when the flame glowed a bright but pale green, she brought Ecanus's arm close and brought the heat to the metal.

The bracelet snapped off in an instant, which surprised everyone including Ecanus. "That's it?" he questioned.

Serena nodded, "That's it." Next she moved on to Castiel, repeating the same process just as easily. When at last she came to Isda, however, that was a different story. "This is going to be more painful for you, I... I'm sorry."

Isda swallowed hard raising her arm in which the mark of the bracelet had been branded into long ago. "It's alright," she smiled weakly, "At least I'll have regained my freedom."

Serena licked her lips delicately. "Just, be still," she advised.

Isda braced herself for what was to come, watching as Serena performed the incantation for the third and final time. Afterwards though, Serena had to press the flame directly to Isda's skin in which to release the spell-binding. Isda shrieked lightly, biting her bottom lip so fiercely that it began to bleed.

From a distance Sam winced, for he remember what it was like to have a branding burned off—almost instinctively he began to rub over the spot on his chest where his anti-possession tattoo was located. At last Serena pulled the fire away from Isda's wrist and the angel could feel the release of imprisonment almost instantly.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked Isda, coming closer in which to retrieve his lighter.

Isda managed to nod tranquilly. "It's not the worst I've had to endure," she said quietly.

"Come on, we should get going if we want to make it there before it becomes too dark," Serena said, already beginning to head for the gate.

"Just a moment," Isda retorted. Closing her eyes to concentrate fully, Isda pressed both her index and middle fingers to the area where she'd been burned. Instantly the flesh began to repair itself, new skin stitching over the red and enflamed patches.

When she was satisfied with the recovery, Isda then approached Castiel whose gunshot wound was yet to be healed. Castiel shifted away from her hesitantly as she knelt beside her, unaware of whether she'd be able to handle the task of fully healing his wound. "Sister?" he questioned.

"It's alright, Castiel," she reassured him, "I'm stronger now."

Castiel's eyes locked with hers for the briefest of moment, and he understood that she was in fact telling the truth. By some means which he was unaware of, she'd somehow regained her powers—thankfully, she no longer had to sacrifice her well-being for the sake of others any longer.

Wrapping her hands tenderly around the gunshot, Isda concentrated once more. A pale blue light seemed to emulate from Castiel's torn skin and everyone, even Serena, watched in awe as the angel was relieved of his pain and restored once more. Taking Isda's hand shortly thereafter, Castiel arose to his feet steadily and tested his knee by bending it ever so slightly.

"Thank you," he murmured quietly. Isda smiled and nodded in return.

Serena looked as though she were about to speak, when suddenly there came a crunch of twigs from off in the distance. "What was that?" Dean asked, glancing all about.

"Demons," Ecanus replied simply. Almost instantly, both Sam and Dean pulled the colt and Ruby's knife from their inner pockets, ready to launch at whatever creature may lurking the shadows.

Castiel spoke up suddenly, "How far is it to the safe house?"

"Uh, about half a mile I think," Serena replied flustered.

"There's no way we'll make it there without being ambushed," Castiel said, "We should teleport."

Serena eyes widened, "You can't be serious."

"I don't think you're in any position to argue. Unless, of course, you have another option to suggest," Ecanus denounced.

Serena glared at him bitterly. "_Fine_," she muttered, teeth clench.

"Here, take hold of one of our arms," Castiel instructed. Everyone did as they were told, Serena locking arms with Isda, Sam with Ecanus, and Dean with Castiel.

With a rush of blasting air, the group was transported from their area within the woodlands to the deck of the safe house located nearby. Serena stumbled as they landed before the house, obviously not accustomed to the travel of angels.

"You've warded the home with sigils?" Castiel asked, though it sounded like more a statement.

Serena sighed as she fished for her keys, "A safety precaution. There's protection against demons too-don't worry it only takes a moment for me to disarm the angel-proof."

Sam, Dean, and Ecanus all stood in a semicircle surrounding the others as Serena worked to unlock the door. "Do you think the demons could've followed us here?" Sam questioned.

"It's probable, but isn't your camp on good terms with those devils?" Ecanus glanced back at Serena.

"We have an... understanding with them. It's kind of like an automatic immunity when you're hording angels," she muttered in response.

"That must be nice," Ecanus sneered, "Knowing that you're secure from Hell when you're taking Heaven captive."

"Got it," Serena declared, trying her hardest to be patient with the angel as he continued to verbally attack her.

"Let's just get in before they decide to shank us," Dean mumbled, heading for the archway.

Once all had entered the home, Serena locked the door securely behind them. Flicking on a nearby light switch, the group found themselves standing in some kind of living room area—various colored blankets and sheets were draped over sofas and chairs and there was a large crimson carpet lying in the center of the room.

Sam walked over to the carpet's edge and kicked the corner up lightly with his foot. Below was revealed a gigantic devil's trap, spray painted black on the hardwood floor. "You weren't kidding about protection," Sam smirked, folding the carpet back down.

Serena shrugged, pulling a sheet off one of the many sofas to be found about the room, "Plus the salt lines should still be intact."

"We should double check," Dean said, "I'll go have a look around."

"I'll join you," Ecanus nodded, following Dean down a lengthy corridor.

"And I'll search the cellar area," Sam said, pulling his gun out just in case.

"Well then," Serena cleared her throat semi-awkwardly, "I guess you two could start figuring out sleeping arrangements, it makes no difference to me. In the meantime I think I'll check on what food supplies we still have available in the pantry. Won't do us any good to be stuck up here dying of starvation."

"Indeed," Castiel agreed, watching as Serena scurried off rather hastily in the direction of the kitchen.

"I don't believe she's comfortable around us just yet," Isda observed.

"No, obviously not," Castiel just sighed wearily, "What do you think we should do in terms of lodging?"

"Well, I think if at all possible, you should spend the night with Dean," Isda replied.

Castiel frowned, "Why is that?"

"Castiel, we're on dangerous ground," Isda clarified, "This may be your only time to really converse with him, one-on-one, before... well, before whatever happens."

"I see," Castiel nodded silently.

Just then, Sam emerged from the basement stairwell, Dean and Ecanus returning as well shortly thereafter. "The cellar's clean," Sam said.

"Yeah, the rest of the house seems fine too."

"There were no breaks in the salt barriers from what I could tell," Ecanus agreed.

"Well that's a relief at least," Isda offered a faint smile.

"So who's sleeping where?" Serena interjected, entering from the kitchen area.

"I guess I could sleep on one of the couches here in the main room," Sam suggested.

Isda nodded, "I think I would prefer that as well."

"Okay well there's two main bedrooms then," Serena muttered, her voice trailing off somewhat as she came to the conclusion she would potentially be sharing a room with an angel.

"Dean, I would like to sleep with you," Castiel announced suddenly.

Dean blushed, feeling his cheeks beginning to burn bright pink. "Oh, well that's uh good with me," he scratched the back of his head awkwardly, "Whatever works."

Sam tried his hardest to keep from snickering, exchanging knowing glances with Isda all the while. "I suppose that means you and I will be sharing accommodations as well," Ecanus turned to face Serena.

She replied none too enthusiastically, "Yeah, I guess so."

Ecanus folded his arms over his chest in contemplation, "If it would help to make the situation any easier, I could always sleep on the floor."

Serena paused simply to look at him with an estranged expression upon her face—this angel, one with whom she obviously didn't get along, was still offering to subject to her. To do whatever it was that made _her_ comfortable. "Uh no," Serena shook her head as she brushed loose stands of hair out of her face, flustered, "No, I um... I think there's some spare blankets in this cabinet over here." With that she headed over to a large wooden cupboard located in the far corner and began to pull out large blankets and quilts.

Isda knelt down in which to hold one of the sheets Serena had discarded to the floor. "Wow," she murmured to no one in particular, "This will be our best rest since before being captured."

Serena stiffened, turning with a statue-like pose in which to glance back at the angel. "How did you manage to get your voice back anyway?" she asked sourly.

"The host infused my vessel with new grace," Isda retorted matter-of-factly, her voice nearly monotone, "An archangel, I think."

"An archangel, is that so?" Serena questioned, her voice emitting the slightest touch of sarcasm.

"That's so," Isda took a step forward, "An archangel with such immense power I'm nearly sure he could obliterate you without even touching a finger to your skin."

"Whoa, let's not get too excited here," Dean cut in sharply.

For a moment no one spoke, Serena and Isda continuing to glare daggers at each other even as Dean approached them. "I think you should show Dean and Castiel to their room," Isda advised coolly.

Serena didn't even both to say anything in return as she led Dean and Castiel once more down the hallway. Ecanus followed closely behind as well, certain that his and Serena's room couldn't be far off. "Here," Serena said as they came to a door on the left, "The sheets are clean, but if you two plan on..."

Dean raised his eyebrows in surprise—sure, he'd contemplated what it might be like to sleep with Cas, but that wasn't really what he had planned on the agenda for this night. Besides, the angel looked like he might just fall over any minute. No, definitely not sex material as of now. The hunter cleared his throat, "Not like it's any of your business, but I think we're just gonna sleep, thanks."

"Have it your way," Serena shrugged, turning to continue on, making a turn further down the hallway. "This is where you and I will be sleeping."

Ecanus nodded, "I'll give you some time alone here if you wish."

"What are you going to do?" she asked curiously.

"I was thinking of finding a quiet place," Ecanus replied solemnly, "To pray."

Serena looked upon him with surprise, "You still pray?"

Ecanus directed his eyes towards the ground almost shamefully, "I admit that I haven't prayed... in a long time. But recently, I find my faith restored."

Serena just nodded, "Well you know where the room is then."

The angel then left, continuing onto a vacant bathroom just down the hall. Meanwhile, Sam lie awake staring at the ceiling in blank contemplation.

"Samuel, are you asleep?" Isda murmured from the nearby loveseat.

Sam shifted, propping himself up on one elbow. He chuckled slightly, "You can call me Sam, you know."

"As you wish," she replied briskly, "I just wanted to apologize."

"For what?" Sam frowned.

"My behavior earlier," Isda paused hesitantly, "It's very unlike me to act in such an aggressive manner."

Sam cleared his throat," Yeah, I noticed. But I really can't blame you for getting worked up. Hell, if I were in your shoes I probably would've clocked her."

"I don't perceive you as a violent person, Sam," she speculated.

"Well I'm not usually. It just goes to show though how emotions can sometimes be a motivation for our actions," Sam said.

Isda agreed, "Yes, they can be."

Sam let out a long drawn sigh, lying flat on his back once more. "So what do you think Serena has in store for Castiel?"

"Probably for him to return her brother back to this earth, as she's mentioned," Isda replied wearily.

Sam shook his head, "There's no way she can actually believe that's a good idea."

"We'll soon see."

Sam leaned his head up somewhat in which to glance at her, "You really think Cas'll go through with this? That Dean would let him?"

"That's not Dean's choice to make," Isda deadpanned, staring back at the young hunter, "Whether you and your brother like to realize it or not, we're still angels. Castiel essentially made a deal, a pact, with Serena once she allowed us to escape the encampment. Angels just don't go back on their side of the bargain like that."

"I dunno, I've seen angels pull some really rotten stunts before," Sam countered.

Isda's brow furrowed, "Not Castiel."

"Still, it's kind of a heavy price," he muttered in response.

"Like I said, we'll soon see how these events transpire," Isda encouraged, "As little good as it may do me to say, try not to worry about your brother, Sam. Whatever is to come, I'm certain you two will be able to find some way to handle it."

"Thanks, I appreciate it," Sam barely whispered, his voice tired and eyelids weighing down.

"Rest now," Isda murmured, sensing his fatigue.

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Castiel took a seat on the edge of the bed, gesturing to the space beside him, "Dean, please, sit."

"Okay," Dean replied, running a hand lightly through his hair with a sigh, "Cas, about what Serena was saying earlier, I—"

"Dean, it's alright. You don't have to explain a thing."

Dean licked his lips delicately, "I just, I didn't want you to think I assumed anything about what might go on tonight... between you and me."

Castiel smiled faintly. "I didn't think that for a moment," he reassured the hunter.

Then, leaning in slightly closer, Castiel cupped Dean's cheek tenderly in his hand and watched as the man's eyes closed as emotion suddenly overtook him. Dean swallowed hard, "Oh Cas—"

"Shh Dean," Castiel murmured.

"Cas, I can't lose you," Dean insisted.

"Dean," Castiel muttered soothingly, planting a gentle kiss to the hunter's forehead, "You won't lose me, I promise you."

"How can you be so sure?" Dean stared at the angel blankly.

At this, Castiel grasped Dean's shoulders firmly and looked the hunter dead in the eye, "Everything will turn out alright in the end, you'll see."

Dean nodded silently, finally embracing his angel fully and closing the gap between them. Castiel gripped Dean's shoulders, running his fingers delicately up the back of Dean's neck in which to play in the short strands of the hunter's hair. Dean exhaled in sharp rapid breaths, deepening their kiss even further by teasing the part of Castiel's lips with his tongue. After a moment, the angel granted him entry in which Dean proceeded to explore the unknown corners of Castiel's mouth. Castiel took hold of the hunter's tongue, sucking and toying with it even as Dean began to pull away.

Gently Dean helped to lower Castiel down onto the mattress, fitting snuggly between the angel's widespread legs. Dean was already so immensely hard, and so he grinded down against Castiel in the utmost need of absolutely any kind of friction.

An unexpected moan was driven from the angel's throat as Dean continued to press their groins together endlessly. Dean quickly covered over Castiel's mouth with his own, wanting to feel the echo of his lover moaning into him.

Castiel's heart raced deep within his chest, as he could feel Dean's hands roaming freely, lustfully, over his body. Despite the obvious pleasure his body was experiencing in this moment, it wasn't quite what he imagined it to be. Slipping his hands in between their tightly pressed torsos, the angel managed to push Dean away somewhat.

"What is it? What's the matter?" Dean panted.

"I've never been one to make rash decisions," Castiel murmured in response, his voice hoarse.

Dean frowned slightly, "What are you talking about?"

Castiel licked his kiss-swollen lips subtly, trying to find the right words, "I don't want us to do this just because we're uncertain of what tomorrow holds."

"Guess the 'last night on earth' speech won't do me much good, huh?" Dean smirked. Castiel smiled apologetically in return. Dean cleared his throat, still feeling flustered as he lightly rolled off his angel. "What did you wanna do then?" Dean asked patiently, stroking Castiel's hand lightly as he held it in his own.

"Please," Castiel requested solemnly, "Just hold me."

Dean brought Castiel close and again lowered himself comfortably onto the bed. With their legs entwined Castiel slipped his head beneath the hunter's chin and wrapped his arms around Dean's body, one hand coming to rest perfectly on Dean's handprint scar. The hunter stroked the back of Castiel's neck tenderly, kissing the angel atop the crown of his head. "I got'cha Cas," Dean whispered into his lover's hair, "I got'cha."

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**A/N: **So again, my apologies for not being around. Despite having some summer courses to get ahead with, my summer holiday has begun so I hope to be able to update more frequently in the weeks to come. So perhaps I'll be able to wrap this one up and move onto the sequel shortly thereafter *fingers crossed*

Thanks to all those who've stuck with me reading this!


	9. Ultimate Sacrifice

**Disclaimer: **All materials belong to their respectful owners. Any and all of the following written is completely fan-written and I claim no profit for it what so ever.

**Author's Note: **I've been in a perpetual writer's block for... an extended period of time haha. There's no excuse that hasn't been said before to explain my absence, but I'm back never the less. And I fully intend to finish this story, as well as its sequel. Let's just hope that some of you are still around to see it through :P

There is some brief cursing and violence throughout this chapter, so please be aware!

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**Ultimate Sacrifice**

The tapping of rain echoed lightly atop the roof as hunter and angel lay entwined in the grey dawn. Castiel continued to grip Dean's shirt with an almost desperate need, even in his sleep. Eyes flickering lightly, the angel glanced wearily around the room as his vision adjusted to the hazy brightness. Ever so slowly, as not to disturb Dean's rest, he shuffled out of the hunter's arms and turned to simply sit atop the bed. The morning hour was quiet, peaceful in fact, but there was a gloom tension that hung over Castiel's shoulders as he contemplated his fate to later be determined.

He would be plunged back into Hell. Back into Hell to rescue a soul who he would not even deem worthy. He wished the suffering of the damned upon no one, but what had this man, Brent, done to be given another chance at redemption? He had his opportunity on earth and chose to simply dispose of it. Dean Winchester was the exception—he was chosen. And even though he had not followed the angels' plan, which Castiel had come to realize was in fact for the best, Dean still remained the righteous man. Brent, on the other hand, was not.

Rubbing a hand over his forehead in exasperation, Castiel wondered just what Serena would do once her brother was restored to her. Surely he would not be the same sibling she had grown up with—seven years had passed since his death. He could only be the shell of a man by now, if any trace of humanity remained at all. Castiel swallowed. There were already enough demons roaming the world, and it was obvious he would release yet another. The angel pondered if Serena had considered this fact, a glint of hope igniting in his chest at the thought. If she had not, then perhaps there was still a chance to dismiss the absurdity from her mind.

Steadily he rose from the mattress, casting a glance over his shoulder to briefly watch Dean. The hunter's chest moved steadily with his breathing, an expression so beautifully content resting over his face. Turning away, a smile pulled at the corner of Castiel's lips as he moved towards the hallway. Closing the door behind him, he could hear muffled voices coming from the area upon which they had entered.

Drawing closer to the room, he heard Sam speaking ever so gently, "Isda, I'm so sorry."

"It's alright," she replied calmly, her voice giving nothing away.

"No," Sam insisted, "It isn't. I would never wish that on anyone."

Isda nodded, a pained smile flashing across her face, "Well, it's over now. To be honest, I had lost hope. I figured there was nothing left but to surrender myself to them. I thought that if I gave them what they wanted, the violence would stop. The continuous torture would stop."

"I probably would've done the same thing," Sam agreed in understanding.

Suddenly Isda's voice sounded stronger, more determined, "Everything changed the day Castiel arrived." This caught him by surprise—Castiel never would have imagined his arrival to the encampment being of importance. "We all knew him, he's become infamous throughout the ranks. I knew his coming meant something was about to change. That perhaps the host would come for us, that we would be liberated."

Sam said nothing for a moment, a finger resting on his chin as though he were in deep thought. "Can I ask you something?" he spoke shyly.

"Of course," Isda smiled kindly.

"When the host spoke to you... restored you, did an archangel really speak to you?" Sam asked.

"Yes," Isda replied automatically, without hesitation.

Sam seemed unsure how to respond, "Will he help us?"

"That would be unlikely," Castiel interjected then, feeling slightly embarrassed for eavesdropping on their conversation.

"Castiel," Sam stood, surprised.

"He is right," Isda confessed, "An archangel's business is not here on earth. Only for matters of great importance, and even then it is likely he would send another."

"And the fact that there are who knows how many angels still penned up isn't considered important?" the hunter asked skeptically.

Neither Castiel nor Isda spoke, knowing the sad truth. Angels were by nature cold creatures. Once separated from the host, there was no point seeking reconnection. It was as if they could've never existed to begin with.

Isda interrupted the silence then, her voice gentle, "Are you nervous about today?"

Castiel cast his eyes towards the floor, feeling suddenly cowardice in the shadow of her question. If were even half the angel he was at the beginning of this journey, swooping into Hell would be of little consequence. In the depths of their own perish, demons would flee from his presence. But now, the fading star that he was... his survival was in no way guaranteed. "I do not expect to return," he whispered solemnly.

A look of horror flashed across the younger Winchester's face. "Does Dean know this?" Sam gasped.

Castiel shook his head grimly, "I've not had the heart to tell him. The whole process, it shall be difficult."

Ecanus emerged from the cellar way, bearing in his hands a large tome. "Difficult would be an understatement, my brother," he said.

Isda raised an eyebrow curiously, "What is that?"

"A book of angelic lore," Ecanus explained, setting it gently atop the coffee table in the center of the room, "Including a ritual in which to open a gateway into Hell."

Sam appeared bewildered, "I didn't think that was possible."

"There are many horrors of the supernatural yet for you to learn," Ecanus shook his head, sadness clouding his eyes.

Just then, Dean's shuffling footsteps could be heard entering the room. "What is this, didn't I get the memo?" he yawned sleepily. Seeing all their expressions serious and grave, the hunter frowned, "What?"

Sam cleared his throat, avoiding his brother's gaze, "Ecanus discovered a ritual."

Dean's whole body tensed. "What kind of ritual?" he asked cautiously, making his way toward the group.

"One that would send me into Hell," Castiel replied, "Serena was adamant about her intentions."

The elder Winchester's face paled, but he said nothing. Shaking his head, he stroked a hand over his stubble-coated cheek turning away wearily. With a sudden outburst of anger, his hand attacked a nearby vase sending it hurling across the room towards a wall. Serena, entering from the hallway, startled as the beautiful glass shattered to her right and crumbled onto the floor.

"What the _Hell_ was that?!" she shouted, staring at Dean incredulously.

With clenched fists the hunter strode towards her, rage blistering across his face, "What gives you the Goddamned right to send Cas back to Hell?!" he hollered in response, "So you're brother died young, get over it!"

Sam spoke hesitantly, "Dean—"

"Don't you talk about my brother!" Serena yelled back, coming right into Dean's personal space, "Who are you tell me to get over it? You and your brother are always having someone else clean up your messes!"

Dean's arm tensed, but instead he turned taking several steps away from her. "If you were a demon I wouldn't hesitate beating your ass," he growled through clenched teeth.

"By all means, I heard that was your specialty anyway," Serena scoffed. Dean's face fell, and no one said a work; they all knew of the hunter's pass, what he had succumbed to in the pit. Serena ignored the glares they all cast, striding forth to collect the book from its place atop the table, "Give me that."

"Do you realize it is likely your brother is no longer your brother?" Castiel said.

Serena paused from turning the pages of the dusty novel, eyeing him suspiciously, "What do you mean?"

"Hell is not simply a place for the damned. It is an abyss for the human soul to crumble, and to be twisted. How do you think many of the demons now residing on earth were created?" Castiel explained.

"But it's only been seven years," Serena shook her head.

"Only?" Ecanus questioned, "Time passes much, much differently in Hell. Seven years on earth? It must be closer to eight-hundred for your brother."

"Eight-hundred?" Serena said, her voice barely grazing a whisper. Her knees suddenly feeling weak, she slumped down into a nearby chair tears threatening her eyes.

"His soul must have been broken," Castiel empathized, "Even the most honorable of men are not immune."

Serena swallowed the lump in her throat, eyes blazing with determination. "No," she said firmly, "Only I can know if he's changed. I have to see him, talk to him. Just one more time."

"You're insane!" Dean shouted.

Serena shook her head, "It makes no difference. The ritual will continue."

"And what do you suppose will serve as a gateway," Ecanus questioned boldly.

"There's the remains of an old well to the side of this house. I think that will be sufficient. Now, I require a specialty of ingredients."

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Castiel stood before a large mirror. He had removed his trench coat, setting it to the side on the bed as he gazed up at his appearance. He did not look so different as the day he entered into the vessel of Jimmy Novak; the bags under his eyes had grown progressively darker, his stubble slightly thicker, and hair its usual mess. The ocean blue depths of his eyes still stood out, drawing an onlooker upon the sight of his face. Reaching up, he began to pull on his tie loosening it from its place around his neck. In his peripheral vision he could see Dean enter, the hunter's brows knitting together as he saw the angel placidly undressing himself.

"Cas, what are you doing?" he asked, shrugging out of his own jacket.

Castiel averted his eyes back to his own body, his voice low, "The less clothing I wear, the easier it will be to pass through the gateway."

He sensed the tension radiating from Dean's body at his words. He knew this was painful for his dear friend. They had been through so much together, had finally come to realize the full extent of their feelings, and now this. Castiel swallowed hard, knowing that this could easily be a permanent separation. Unexpectedly, a light grin came over Dean's face. "Do you even know how to get that thing off?" he nodded towards the cobalt tie Castiel still struggled with.

The angel frowned slightly, fidgeting with the thin material causing it to knot further. "I am not quite familiar with the human dress code," he muttered at last.

"Here," Dean chuckled, Castiel turning to face him. Carefully the hunter reached up, undoing the material until it easily slipped out from underneath the collar of Castiel's dress shirt. "It's weird seeing you like this."

Castiel tilted his head to the side, "How do you mean?"

"Well you're just usually, you know, more formal and whatnot," Dean cleared his throat, his eyes drawn to the top buttons of Castiel's shirt that were undone revealing the chest beneath.

The angel noticed Dean's stare, suddenly feeling a flush of embarrassment creep across his skin. "Dean," he murmured gently, "I'm sorry."

Dean's eyes immediately shot up, confusion reading evident upon his face, "Cas, what are you talking about?"

Castiel sighed wistfully, running a hand through his hair, "Not telling you of the ritual. What exactly this will entail."

"I'll be honest, I'm still not sure I understand what is actually going on here," Dean scoffed.

"Dean, Serena is planning to open a portal to Hell. It will be my task to travel through it, locate her brother, and bring him to the other side," Castiel replied matter of factly.

Dean licked his lips cautiously, "Well yeah, and you'll follow him out then right?" At the lack of his angel's response, Dean felt a twist of panic boil in his stomach. "Right? Cas?"

"I," Castiel choked on his words, "Dean, I don't know if I'll make it back."

The hunter turned away quickly, feeling salty tears prick at the corners of his eyes. He wouldn't cry, wouldn't give in, not now. Castiel needed him to be strong, to convince the angel that he would in fact make it back. That maybe they could have a shot together... but even as he thought such things, Dean knew it wasn't mean to be. Nothing was ever that simple. There were no happy endings for the Winchesters, after all.

After a moment he was able to compose himself, turning once more to face Castiel. The angel wore a unreadable expression, his face calm but eyes filled with a deep sadness. "Let me help you with this," Dean practically whispered.

Castiel made no objections as the hunter reached forward, gingerly undoing the second button of his shirt, followed by the rest until at last it was open entirely. With callused fingers, Dean pulled the shirt gently off the angel's shoulders staring wide-eyed at the delicate skin revealed below. Castiel was admirably toned, the light outline of abs etched over his abdomen. His chest bore some hair, not much, just enough to give the otherwise flawless skin some character. Dean could feel his pulse quicken ever so slightly. "Damn Cas," he grinned, looking up at the angel rather suggestively.

"I've done nothing to make this body what it is," Castiel shook his head shyly, feeling incredibly vulnerable beneath Dean's gaze. The hunter seemed to penetrate the mere frame that contained his holy grace, staring into the soul that truly rested in the vessel's heart.

"This is who I know you as," Dean muttered, his pupils dilating, "I have no idea what else you'd look like." Stepping forward ever so slightly, the hunter closed the space between them, running his fingers over Castiel's collarbone which protruded subtly from his chest. The angel closed his eyes, marveling in Dean's touch. This intimacy was so foreign to him; angels used know physical contact whatsoever when showing their affections for one another.

Taking advantage of the moment, the hunter came even closer leaning his head as to lightly kiss Castiel's closed eyelids. The angels eyes jerked open suddenly, staring at Dean as if the hunter had performed an act unbeknownst to mankind. Then, with a fervent passion Dean would have never expected Castiel to posses, the angel grasped Dean's shirt clasping their mouths together. Dean could feel his back arch as Castiel ran a hand down the hunter's spine, bringing their bodies as close together as possible.

Castiel pulled away, the both of breathing heavily as adrenaline courses through their veins. "Dean," he gasped, brokenness creeping into his voice.

"We'll make it out of this Cas," Dean reassured him firmly, though remaining unsure he could provide truth behind his words.

Castiel nodded anyway, their foreheads pressed together in a desperate attempt to never again be apart. A light knock unexpectedly rapped at the door, angel and hunter pulling away in surprise. Isda stood in the doorway, flushing slightly as she realized her interruption. "I'm sorry," she said sincerely, eyes connecting with Castiel, "Serena is ready for you now."

"We'll be just a minute," Dean replied immediately. Isda nodded, closing the door and leaving them once more alone.

"My apologies for my outburst," Castiel cleared his throat, a smile playing at his lips.

Dean chuckled, his humor quickly fading however they realized the inevitable moment of Castiel's departure had finally arrived. "Well, this is it," Dean sighed, reaching out to grasp Castiel's hand comfortingly.

The angel returned the simply but welcomed gesture, releasing the hunter's hand as the two of them made their way towards the living room. Everyone stood crowded near the door expectantly as they entered. "Outside," Serena ordered simply, carrying in her hands the tome from earlier along with a bowl which bore a mixture of what appeared to be dried herbs.

"Do you think that's safe, from the demons?" Dean hesitated.

Ecanus nodded grimly, "I do not sense them close by." Dean noted the large pitcher the angel held in his hands. It looked as though it was filled about three-quarters of the way with olive oil.

The group followed Serena outside towards the back of the safe house to a clearing where the foundation of what was once a stone well sat nestled between a circle of oddly shaped boulders. Retrieving a safety flare from her satchel, Serena promptly ignited it before casting it into the well's seemingly bottomless bowels.

"Here, make a barrier," she said, handing a container of salt to Sam. The hunter quickly set to work making a thick circle atop the grass in which to surround the lot of them.

Meanwhile, Ecanus began to slowly drizzle the oil into a collection of herbs and other dried ingredients already combined in the bowl Serena had been carrying. He chanted ever so lightly, using what appeared to be a fork to bring the mixture together. Serena brought forth a can of spray paint, carefully etching unique symbols into the boulders surrounding the well.

A low rumble could be felt in the ground below, Isda casting a concerned glance at Castiel who seemed to remain indifferent to the events taking place around him. The rumbling quickly gave way to an earthquake-like shaking which seemed to echo across a great expanse of the land. From the treetops above, birds shrieked and flew to safety as an uncomfortable darkness settled over the sky. At last Ecanus finished his incantation and, without warning, a burnt orange lightly began to pour from the top of the well.

"Castiel," Ecanus called to him, "Come."

Castiel looked beside him at Dean, an unspoken farewell passing between them. Castiel did as he was told, approaching his brother. Ecanus then dipped two fingers into the oil-herb concoction, smearing symbols onto Castiel's bare chest which resembled the ones Serena had just painted onto the rocks behind them. Castiel suddenly felt nervous beneath Ecanus's touch, hearing his brother begin once more to speak solemnly. Only this time Castiel recognized it as Enochian; Ecanus was saying a prayer for him. Despite the tension and fear that rose within him, Castiel still smiled gratefully at Ecanus.

"What am I to do?" Castiel asked, his voice as serious and monotone as the day he took charge of his vessel.

Serena seemed to hesitate for a moment, before gathering her voice in which to finally speak, "You will throw yourself into the well."

Castiel approached the stone edging, gazing fearfully into the dark expanse below. At the very bottom, which extended several yards below ground, he could see the faintest flicker of the flare Serena had tossed down just minutes ago. It glowed an eerie red, making Castiel shiver with the memory of the Hellfire he was soon to face. Inhaling sharply, the angel's muscles tensed and he prepared to drop himself into the foreign abyss.

"Stop!" a voice suddenly shrieked from just beyond the hill. Several gunshots fired into the air, everyone ducking low as to take cover from the unseen predator.

Dean could see both Nathan and Lucas making their way stealthily towards the safe house. "Son of a bitch," he grumbled.

"Nathan?!" Serena gasped. She hadn't suspected he would travel all this way to retrieve them.

"Don't you take another step," the still bloody-faced man hissed, "Not one fucking step!"

Castiel could not understand what came over him in that moment. Perhaps it was desire to purposefully spite the man who had attempted to force himself upon the angel, or just a will to see his task through to the end, but with one swift move Castiel flung himself into the black caverns before him. He could hear the shocked voices echoing behind him, Dean's ringing out specifically as the angel began to cascade down, down, down...

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"_Cas!"_

It was the toxic scent of sulfur that hit the angel's senses first as Castiel realized he had passed through the world of living into the realm of the damned. The heat came second, a strangling humidity suffocating him without warning. Breathing was not such as an easy task as it was topside. Then again, the physical body was not the same as on earth. Nothing was the same.

An unnerving silence stung Castiel's body like pins and needles as the angel came crashing onto a hard surface. Hearing a loud crack erupt from what would have been his leg, Castiel tried his best to remain quiet as he suffered his first feelings of agony in this forsaken land. Breathing rapidly, he began to choke on a thick dust that coated the ground which was now filling his lungs. A stream of saliva hurdled out of his mouth over suddenly chapped lips, the angel finally gaining control over his cough as he attempted to stand.

Sweat beaded down Castiel's temple, the angel squinting in attempts to make anything out in the pitch darkness. The silence was beginning to cause a feeling of paranoia to blossom in his stomach—he had not remembered it being so quiet when rescuing Dean. If anything, the screams Dean produced from his victims were the loudest and most blood-curdling he had ever encountered during his time spent searching for the Winchester. Thinking of his hunter caused, on one hand, a great twinge of pain in Castiel's chest. At the same time, however, it made his desire to find Serena's brother even stronger.

Ever so cautiously he began to move in what he assumed to be a westward direction. And then it hit—the sound of a cracking whip loud enough to shatter glass. Castiel dropped to his knees in a desperate hope of protection as deep blue and purple lightning lit up the expanse of darkness above him. A single diabolical laugh resonated all around, Castiel unsure of the direction from which it was actually coming from. Almost as if on cue, horrible cries and screams of forgotten souls reached his ears and it was almost too much for the angel to bear. Castiel curled into himself, streams of tears beginning to roll down his cheeks. This was Hell, after all, and not even an angel could be immune to the immense burden of suffering and pain that hung in the air as a permanent fixture.

Between the flashes of color, Castiel could see a dark figure swiftly approach him. Finding a reserved ounce of strength within him, the angel arose quickly his stance appearing much braver than he felt in all actuality.

"Well, well, well," a hoarse voice murmured from the dark, "What do we have here?"

"Who are you?" Castiel demanded, casting nervous looks all around in attempts to catch to catch the dreaded to ghoul which plagued him.

The voice purred once again from the shadows, "I'll be asking the questions, dear angel. You'll find my name of little importance. However, I would not object to your use of it in the utmost reverence as I peel the flesh from your delightful body."

Castiel swallowed hard, his heart hammering so hard in his chest that he suspected it might burst through his ribcage at any moment. The sound of the whip cracked overhead yet again, this time latching around Castiel's neck causing him to stumble back.

The angel continued to fall further into the blackness, suddenly feeling an immense heat radiating over his shoulder as he was sure the mysterious figure was towering over him. He fought all the harder to pull out of the clutches of his adversary, but to no avail. Incredibly sturdy and human-like hands clutched onto Castiel's arms dragging him down to the ground.

"What is your name, angel?" this rival asked, one hand driving painfully into Castiel's sternum in which to keep him exactly where the figure desired. Castiel writhed beneath his touch, this creature's handprint stinging like acid against his skin. "Answer me."

"C- Castiel," he managed at last.

"Castiel," the assailant pondered for a moment, "And tell me, who is it that sent you? Your fluffy little host perhaps?"

Castiel shook his head desperately, feeling a change, a suspicion, in the form's stance at his response. "A human," Castiel nearly whispered, "She sent me in search of her brother."

The being seemed to understand, suddenly dragging Castiel up from his place atop the ground and leading him through a dimly lit cavern. "Well then," it said, "You'll have plenty of time to tell me all about it where I'm taking you."

Castiel was not prepared for the blow that came next. Fisting the angel's hair in its fingers, the creature slammed Castiel's face into the stone wall before them repeatedly until a large gash was punctured into the side of Castiel's face. The angel's vision reeled as he was slung into some restraining device, his arms and legs spread widely apart. He was now fully on display, at the mercy of whoever this form was standing before him.

Blinking vigorously, Castiel could feel the blood pouring down his cheek towards his neck and beyond. At last he was able to catch a glimpse of his perpetrator. He appeared to be nothing more than a man, well the shell of one at least—a muscular frame covered in various wounds and scars of all shapes and sizes. His face was drawn, half burnt and charred with bits of skin flaking off all the way down towards his shoulder. It was this villain's eyes though that really stood out to the angel, however. Castiel was certain he had seen them before.

In his deliria, memories from his entire lifetime flashed before Castiel's eyes. The realization came with a swift punch to his stomach which emptied his lungs fully of any air they had obtained...

_All eyes turned to see another human, a woman, standing in the corridor of the stalls bearing a shot gun in hand_—Serena. This man had Serena's eyes, he had to be Brent. Castiel felt his fears confirmed, he knew there was no way this boy could possess the same soul as he had seven years ago.

Retrieving a small curved knife from his side, Brent admired its gleam in the dim light. Castiel's eyes widened in the utmost fear as Brent leaned in close to his face and ran the blade over his stubble. "Why don't you tell me a little bit about this woman who sent you, hmm?" he asked, his voice sickening with a false kindness.

Castiel could feel the blade cutting into his skin in an agonizingly slow fashion, and he could not help but cry out. "Aggghh! Dean!"

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**A/N: **So there is still one more chapter yet to come in this story before it comes to a close and I begin the sequel. Hopefully that will not take me another six months *sigh*

At any rate, thanks a million again to all of you who have reviewed this story in the past and will continue to read it. Believe it or not, I actually do appreciate it haha. I will try to have the last chapter posted asap, fingers crossed!


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